Harry's Butterfly
by AndDon'tCallMeShirley
Summary: The untold story of Harry's childhood on Number Four. Includes his school, Aunt Marge, and a whole lot of Dudley. Starts off when he's four and goes to when he recieves his Hogwarts letter. CHAPTER SEVEN UP!
1. The Earliest of Childhood Memories

**Harry's Butterfly**

_By: AndDon'tCallMeShirley_

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. If I did, I'd be filthy rich and I'm not. sighs

Author Notes: So this is my first HP story here. I don't know how long of a story it will be yet. I have a basic outline of what's going to happen. It starts when Harry's about four, almost five, and it will end when Harry gets his Hogwarts letter. The first chapter here is not very long; it's just a bit of a backbone to the story.

I'm posting the first two chapters today since it's new years day. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Also, if you don't anything really nice to say, go ahead a say it. If this story sucks monkey balls, you go ahead a say it. Just wait until a few chapters are posted though. The first chapter is always a rough one.

And if you have anything good to say, I would love to hear that too... anyways, on to the story!

**Prelude: The Earliest of Childhood Memories**

The carbon-copy houses of Privet Drive were as drudging as ever. Everyday, the daily routine repeated itself without excitement. The same sun rose over the well kept blades of grass in all of the perfectly square front yards. The same mailman made his round and delivered the post sharply on time every time. From an outsider's point of view, Privet Drive would appear to be plain and ordinary.

But sometimes, appearances don't show all that's there to see.

Still unknown to some their esteemed neighbors, the inhabitants of Number 4 had a rather big secret to hide. This secret wasn't an idea or object, no, it was a boy.

A young boy at that, too! At the age of four, almost five, this boy possessed powers and legends that even he isn't aware of. Just image the change of havoc that would be made if the neighbors ever found out! And that was the inhabitants of Number 4's biggest fear.

Yet from that outsider's point of view, the boy would seem almost normal compared to others his age. He had jet black hair and very bright green eyes behind his rather thick glasses. The only abnormal thing about him, apart from his hanging hand-me-down clothes he's forced to wear, is the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

His parent's had died in a car crash when he was just a baby and now the boy lives with his only remaining relatives, his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. And who can forget their son, Dudley, whose threatening to grow up into a baby whale at his rate of food consumption.

The Dursleys of Number Four Privet Drive all show some varying amount of dislike to their unwanted family member, Harry Potter. Dudley likes to show his affect to Harry by either chasing him up a tree (if he can catch him) or by taking away whatever his cousin wants. Harry's Aunt and Uncle are actually afraid of him and try to mask it through their obvious hatred toward him. Not one day in the house goes by where one of the two hasn't insulted of threatened Harry.

Little did Harry know, he's considered a hero to many. Sadly, none of those many live on Privet Drive. With a family that considers him less worthy of a dog and a neighborhood of _normal _people, he's often alone.

For as long as he can remember, Harry always disliked the Dursleys. From the time he wakes up to when he goes to sleep, all he ever receives is their loathing. Even now, at the age of four, where not a lot of the world makes since yet, Harry could confidently say that he hates the Dursleys as well.

What's there not to detest about the Dursleys? They make Harry sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, force him to cook and clean, and don't bother reminding him everyday that he's a freak.

Even his earliest childhood memories contain nothing good. These memories slip away like water trying to be held in cupped hands. The only things Harry remembers of his stay at the Dursleys so far are the worst of all horrible memories, the rocks in the water.

There was this one time when everyone was served salad for dinner. Harry, of course, wasn't welcome to the dinner table and was eating half a cheese sandwich on the floor. He watched the family function as one, his heart aching to join them. Dudley was not satisfied with his rather skimpy meal and was throwing an infamous temper tantrum. To let out his anger, he took the tub containing his brio train pieces and chucked it at Harry's head.

The side of the tub was sharp and jabbed Harry right along the side of his eye. Harry didn't even bother trying to hold in his wailing as the cut hurt horribly. It just kept bleeding while his Aunt and Uncle argued whether or not to take him to the hospital. After twenty minutes, Harry was in the backseat of the car, trying to staunch the bleeding with his rather large sleeve.

At least the people at the hospital were nice to him. The kind-looking nurse gave him what was called "butterfly stitches" and told him to leave the bandages alone or else the butterfly would fly away. Harry distinctly remembered thinking whether or not the butterfly would fly him away too as they drove home.

There was this other time shortly afterwards when Dudley was chasing Harry on the playground. By some miracle, he managed to catch his cousin and rip his bandage off. The stitches were still healing and the sudden rip of the bandage made them pulse with pain. After knocking Harry over, he shoved his head into the sandbox violently. Harry cried for hours on end as the sand burned his cut.

Aunt Petunia wouldn't allow him to get them re-bandaged. She believed Dudley's far-fetched story of him ripping off his bandages and sticking his head in the sand box.

All of Harry's painful memories stayed in his conscious. At night in his cupboard, he tried desperately to clear his head of the ache they caused. He would often clutch his only blanket and stuffed dog to him as he cried. He was very sure that they were left with him as he was dropped off on the doorstep. They were his only link to his parents.

One memory always stayed in his head, not that it was too terrible, no, it happened quite often. Aunt Petunia was giving Dudley a bath. This task usually took forever as Dudley liked to play with his toys in the water for at least an hour. Instead of starting a new bath for Harry, Aunt Petunia would just use the already cold and dirty water from Dudley's bath. Dudley would march proudly out of the bathroom, all of his toys in his arms. Harry was hoping he didn't pee in the tub or something.

Thank God it wasn't that, Harry remembered thinking. Instead, Dudley was proud of the floater he left for his cousin. He remembered the punishment he got or that, as Dudley blamed it on him, like always. Harry had to clean it up and scrub the tub.

Harry also remembered missing dinner that night. He was so tired of being the blame of all of Dudley's mishaps that he wanted to get back at him.

That night when everyone was sleeping, Harry snuck out of his cupboard and went to the pantry. Opening it slowing because of it squeaks, Harry took the box of cookies that Dudley often ate while watching cartoons. There were about four more boxes of cookies in the pantry so Harry didn't have too much to worry about.

He sat on the ground and ate what was left of the cookies. Never was he so happy. Harry had never tasted something so sweet. He just kept eating and eating…

Until his stomach seemed to flip flop, the box of cookies was empty and Harry felt sick to his stomach. Running to the trashcan, he emptied his stomach in anguish.

Luckily, no one woke up to Harry's heaving as he sat with his back against the pantry until another wave of nausea struck him. His belly was still churning but Harry had to get rid of the evidence. He ended up taking out the trash in the middle of the night. Even with an empty stomach, he didn't have an appetite the next day.

The most painful of all memories, the one Harry always wanted to be forgotten, was not one with him being physically harmed; It was emotionally scarring. Whenever his mind dwelled over it, it burned right in his heart. It was a question he had asked Aunt Petunia, but the answer wasn't the cause of the pain. It was rather the lack of answers she gave.

Harry has always been a curious boy. There was so much he wondered about and so few answered he'd receive. He had once asked his Aunt where his scar came from while she was cleaning the dishes.

"You got it in the crash that killed your parents, now don't ask questions!" She answered hastily, shoving the wet rag and sponge in his hands. "Now make yourself useful and finish the dishes. I have to cook Diddle-Dumdums his dinner."

Harry often would lay at night on the small cot in his cupboard. He would often close his eyes and imagine his mother's touch and his father's voice. He would often dream of them, his faceless parents, only to wake up forgetting about his dream. All he would remember was the warm, happy feeling inside him. The feeling that not even the Dursleys could take away.

This happiness was the only thing that kept him alive at the Dursleys. Just the fact that he could imagine something Dudley couldn't made him gleeful. Even in the winter, when the frost outside would creep into the house, Harry would cuddle with his blanket and his stuffed dog and dream of what could have been, what should have been.

If only his dreaming could hide all the other bad memories away. If only all Harry knew was of his mother's voice as she sang him to sleep or of his father's advice as he taught him how to ride a bike. He often dreamed of others, grandparents and nicer Aunts and Uncles. There had to have been more of them somewhere. If only Harry knew where.

The only thing Harry wanted other than remembering his parent's faces is a different relation coming to take him away. He often dreamed of a handsome man, an Uncle maybe, who came to fly him away. The dream often changed slightly. One night, the two flew away on a flying motorcycle. Another night, they were flying on a strange flying horse-bird creature.

The one he dreamed of often was of him and the handsome man flying away on a butterfly. They flew far away from the Dursleys, never to return again.

TBC

Next Chapter: Dudley's 5th Birthday!

I will usually try to update weekly or so. It depends because January and February will be rather busy with midterms, swim meets, and out show choir show.


	2. Dudley's Fifth Birthday

Disclaimer: Nope! I still don't own it... runs away and cries

**Chapter Two: Dudley's Fifth Birthday **

Harry was dreaming.

"What story will it be tonight, bud?" the deep masculine voice of his faceless father would ask. He was sitting on the side of his son's bed, a stack of books in his arms.

"The one with the giant! The one with the giant!" Harry tried to say, but he never talked in his dreams, not to his parents at least. Nevertheless, his father seemed to understand as he pulled out Jack and the Beanstalk.

"Again? I've read it to you at least five thousand times!" his father prodded playfully and laughed at the pleading look his son was giving him.

"Oh if he wants to read it, let him read it, dear," came the soft, beautiful voice of his mother as she entered with a cup of hot cocoa. "Here you are, Harry," she said soothingly as she handed her son the steaming mug. "Careful! It might still be a little hot."

"Thank-you," Harry wanted to say, but again no sound came out of his mouth. His mother smiled still as though she received his gratitude.

"O.K. now," his father started, opening the cover, "where did we leave off last night?"

"Just start when Jack reached the top of the bean stalk," mother said. She joined her son and husband by sitting on the other side of his bed.

"O.K. let's see here," his father stalled as he turned to the right page. "Alright, here we are! 'Jack climbed and climbed until he could climb no more. At the top of the beanstalk was the entrance to a vast meadow with a huge house right in the middle…"

Harry listened, his heart content. Every now and then, he would take a sip of his drink and his mother would smooth back the hair from his face. Only five minutes in he could feel sleep consume him.

"'…and then Jack saw him. The giant was tall and ugly as he called out "fee, fi, fo, fum," causing the ground to shake at his volume…'"

Harry took another sip of hot cocoa, his eyelids drooping. He vaguely felt his mother reach over and take the half empty mug out of his hands.

"'…Jack saw the golden harp…'"

His mother started rubbing her thumb over the side of his cheek.

"'…and then…'"

Harry didn't know what happened next in the story. All he knew was of the warm feeling in his stomach as his father's voice and his mother's touch lolled him to sleep.

Suddenly, his mother's hand became rather harsh as her rubbing turned into slapping.

"Wake up! Come on, boy! Up you get!" Now that wasn't his mother's voice. Instead, that was his Aunt Petunia who was slapping him on the cheek to wake him.

"Up boy! Today's Dudley's birthday and you need to help me with the chores!" She said roughly, slamming the door to his cupboard shut.

Harry's eyelids opened blearily. He saw the ceiling of the cupboard greeting him. He wished everyday that he'd wake up to his parents faces. The dream he had of them was slipping away fast and Harry desperately tried to hold on to it.

Sitting up, the young boy pulled the string next to his head to turn on the light, illuminating the space. The bulb flickered slightly (Harry was sure it was about to go out) as he pulled on his small glasses, taking in his cupboard.

His cupboard was dark and cold in the morning. There never was much to it. Just a cot, and old blanket, his stuffed dog, some small broken toys he took from Dudley, some hand-me-down clothes stuffed in a corner, and some spiders.

Harry didn't mind the spiders in his room. At least they were nice to him, unlike Dudley. They usually stayed in their webs on the ceiling all day. 'How boring that must be', Harry thought randomly.

Grabbing the same oversized clothes from yesterday, Harry quickly dressed. He had a rather large pair of kaki pants on and an itchy sweater whose sleeves had to be rolled up four times for Harry to use his hands.

Harry didn't have much, but he did have some dignity for his possessions. Before leaving, he folded his ratting old blanket and set it at the foot of his bed. Also, he would hide his stuffed dog under the pillow so Dudley never got him.

This stuffed dog meant a whole lot to Harry. He was pretty sure that this toy was also left on the doorstep along with him. The small dog had black fur and had letters stitched across its chest, but Harry couldn't read yet. He_was _only four.

Harry heard footsteps come to the door of the cupboard.

"Hurry up, boy! Dudley's waiting!" his Aunt yelled while rapping on the door.

'At least she didn't come in,' Harry thought as he tugged on the string, turning the one light off.

'If only I could remember them.' Harry thought sadly as he turned the stuffed dog in his small hands before tucking it underneath his pillow.

With a small smile on his face, Harry got up and headed for the kitchen.

Even though he's only a four year old, Harry still was required to help cook breakfast with Aunt Petunia. No civil conversation would ever be reached between the two. Aunt Petunia spent most of the time barking orders of insults to her nephew. Harry never really talked much and knew talking back meant time in the cupboard.

Dudley was sitting at the kitchen table around all of his presents. He would go back and forth from trying to peak into his presents and banging his fist on the table and wailing for food. Harry always saw through Dudley's trick. His cousin's goal was to make him as miserable as possible, and now he was certainly achieving it.

"Don't you see my little Diddly-Dumdums is hungry?" Aunt Petunia asked distressingly. "Make yourself useful and watch the bacon." She then went over to Dudley and continued her daily routine of smothering.

Harry got the stool from under the sink he uses to reach the stove. From over the countertop, he could see Dudley smirking at him through his mother's arms.

Harry annually thought of one thing on Dudley's birthday. Seeing that the Dursley's don't care if it's Harry's birthday or the second Thursday of May, he was usually left to wonder…

'What would my parents do on my birthday…?' Harry could imagine the necessities: a birthday cake and presents. 'Would they get chocolate or vanilla cake? Would they give me so many gifts that Dudley would be jealous?'

He could see it now: the whole family (minus the Dursleys) would be there and there would be streamers and party hats and a large chocolate cake with 'Happy Birthday, Harry' on it. Everyone would sing for him and then they could play games and not make him cook and clean and…

"Hurry up with that bacon, boy!" His uncle scolded him as he finally made an appearance into the kitchen, the paper under his arm. He spotted Dudley and his ill-tempered glare turned into a simulated smile.

"Dudders, my big boy! How old are you today?" Uncle Vernon asked as he slapped his son on the shoulder, proud as ever.

Dudley didn't seem to be paying attention to his father as he was busy trying to peek into his presents again. A very large box at the end of the table caught his attention quickly.

"Oh, Vernon! He's so excited! Oh, go ahead, Dudley, open some!" Aunt Petunia called as she joined her son and husband at the table, leaving Harry with the rest of breakfast.

Harry watched as Dudley practically dived for the large box, not having to be told twice. He heard his uncle exclaim, "Going for the best first! That a boy Dudders!" Harry watched with sad eyes as his cousin torn apart the wrapping and nearly let out a pig squeal of delight.

Dudley got his very own T.V. for his room. That way, he doesn't have to make the long walk down the stairs and into the sitting room to watch his morning cartoons. Dudley talked loudly about his new gift, as if wanting Harry to come over so he could beat him up.

"Now, Vernon, if we only had one in the kitchen, Dudley could watch and eat at the same time!" Aunt Petunia milked out. She clearly thought that this was a great way of multi-tasking.

"But where in the kitchen, deary?" Uncle Vernon asked. He scanned the kitchen before he saw the tufts of black hair over the countertop. Harry couldn't see him but he knew that the unpleasant scowl returned.

"Aren't you finished yet, boy?" came his Uncle's angry voice. Harry stepped up his stool to reply, knowing that talking back when not face to face meant a long stay in the cupboard.

"Yes, I'll be right there, Uncle Vernon." Harry grasped the handle of the pan and carefully tried to step off the stool.

A very sharp and stinging pain hit Harry's arm as he dropped the pan, clutching his arm. Some of the hot grease from the pan made contact on Harry's arm, burning his skin.

"Now look what you've done, boy!" Uncle Vernon looked ready to explode. Harry could vaguely hear Dudley wailing in the back while his mother tried desperately to calm him down.

Tears were running down Harry's face. He was biting on his bottom lip to try to mask any cry that was fighting to come out. The pan was on the floor, its contents of hot grease and bacon spewed out around it.

Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the hair and literally dragged him back to his cupboard. He opened the door, shoved his nephew in roughly, and slammed it shut again.

Harry sat alone in the dark for who knew how long. Hot tears leaked out of Harry's eyes and ran down the sides of his cheeks. The wails of pain were close to release as Harry shoved his face into his pillow and sobbed.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. The door to the cupboard opened as Aunt Petunia tossed him a cool cloth and a box of band-aids.

It was dark by the time Harry was let out of the cupboard. The house was rather empty during the day as Dudley went to the park with some neighborhood kids as part of his party. Now, all of them have returned to the sitting room and kitchen for cake and ice cream.

Harry heard the party of kids sing Dudley happy birthday. Even from the cupboard, he could hear his cousin's blows as it took one… two… three blows to get out all five candles. He could hear Uncle Vernon's proud booming voice and Aunt Petunia's shrilly blubbering.

He didn't know what hurt more, his blistering, burnt arm that he had to patch up in the dark (his light bulb finally snuffed it) or his aching heart.

Harry then heard the front door open and loud, heavy footsteps vibrated the floor.

"Sorry Vernon, Petunia… I came a little later than I planned. I had to have Colonel Filibuster look after my babies. Oh, is that my little Dinky-Dudders? Look how big you've gotten!"

Harry's heart fell to the floor. It was Aunt Marge.

Harry was now sitting amongst the kids from Dudley's party. Aunt Marge almost demanded that Harry joined them just so that she could pick on the little four-year-old.

Harry tried not to give her any reason to talk or touch him. He sat quietly and didn't say a word to the other kids (all who looked rather scared of Dudley). His stomach rumbled slightly. He hadn't eaten anything all day. If only he hadn't missed out on cake and ice cream….

Aunt Marge was a big and porky woman just like her brother, Uncle Vernon. She often talked loudly about her precious dogs. She treated them as if they were her children. They all had rooms to themselves and got the best type of three meal courses out there for dogs.

"Yes, old Filibuster taking a proper looking after my dogs," Aunt Marge droned on and on. "He recons that they're all rather… 'peaky' is what I think he said. 'Now you just wait,' I told him, 'I'm about to get myself a new dog. A tough, decent dog.'"

"What are you going to name it?" Uncle Vernon asked conversationally as if buying huge, probably terrifying, dogs was part of the day to day routine in his house. He, Aunt Petunia, and Aunt Marge were all sitting around table drinking tea as Dudley showed his guest his new T.V..

"I think I'll name him Ripper. Doesn't that just sound positively marvelous?" Aunt Marge asked exhilarated.

"Oh," exclaimed Aunt Petunia. She nearly dropped her tea cup. "It's… charming…"

"Soon, our little Dudders is gonna be a man," Aunt Marge brought her attention back to the party of toddlers. "Five. Wow, it felt like just yesterday when he was born…"

"Yeah," replied Aunt Petunia wearily, "times flies."

"And than _he_came…" started Aunt Marge. Harry looked up from the circle of children. He just knew that a 'he, him, you,' or 'boy' stressed that way was a conversation about himself.

"Just turned up when I went out to get the milk bottle," said Aunt Petunia in a small voice. She obviously didn't want to bring up the subject again. Uncle Vernon, on the other hand, looked as if he wanted to complain about his nephew all day.

"The little brat of a kid. He can't do anything right, and how could he with parents like his… sorry Petunia," he said hastily. Aunt Petunia went a slight shade of green at the mention of her sister, Harry's mum.

"It's O.K. dear," exclaimed Aunt Marge, patting her sister-in-law on the forearm, "It probably came from his father, just like all of his looks…"

"Yeah," sighed Aunt Petunia. She definitely didn't want to talk about this.

"But even just this morning," started Uncle Vernon's rant, "he dropped the pan of bacon, probably on purpose too. He knows that it's Dudder's birthday. It took a while too clean the mess up. It caused us to be late to the park to meet up with Dudley's friends…"

"And look at all of his friends!" Aunt Marge estimated about eight of him. "Quite the social man, Dudders, just like his father."

"Back to the boy, though Marge…" Uncle Vernon wanted to get his daily amount of complains in. Aunt Petunia got up from the table suddenly, looking dismayed. The other two looked up at her in surprise.

"I ca-, why do-, why don't we have the kids play a game?" She stuttered out nervously. "They… they look bored…"

"An excellent idea, deary!" exclaimed Aunt Marge. "Nothing like a little game to teach my little nephey-poo real life applications…. How about musical statues? Round up the chairs Petunia…"

Chairs were set with their backs creating a circle in the sitting room. Aunt Petunia brought in eight chairs for the eight guests plus Dudley…

"Now, Petunia," Aunt Marge started. "Why don't you grab another. You know, for the boy…"

"Oh," exclaimed Aunt Petunia, as if she merely forgot a chair. Uncle Vernon almost looked ready to vocally disagree.

Now nine chairs were added to the circle. Aunt Petunia also brought in her old record player in just for kicks.

"Here we are," she said as she set the turntable down, "Now, how many know how to play…?"

Harry sat in silence as Aunt Petunia patiently explained the game. Harry has seen Dudley play this with other kids before, but never had he been able to play it. He glanced up at Aunt Marge, wondering why she would let him play a game on Dudley's birthday too…!

Aunt Marge almost had a malicious smirk on her face when she looked at Harry. Whatever she was planning, it wasn't going to be pretty.

Once Aunt Petunia was done explaining the game, everyone took their places as the spindle of the tonearm made contact with the record, emitting a jazzy tune. Harry got a little shove behind him as he almost forgot to start walking.

Surprisingly, when the music stopped, Harry got a chair to himself. Dudley had pushed a little girl half his size to the floor to get a chair. She almost looked ready to cry. The rest of the small party guest looked at each other, wondering which one of them would receive the next shove by the birthday boy….

The game continued on. The jazzy tune continued for almost a whole minute before it stopped. Once again, Harry got a chair to himself. This time, a small boy with sandy hair got out. He had purposely jumped away at the end of the song to stay out of Dudley's reach.

As the game progressed, more and more children went out on purpose to avoid Dudley's fists. Harry, on the other hand, was enjoying himself. This game was rather fun. As long as he let Dudley win, he could appreciate the game.

The number of players soon diminished. In the final round, it was just Harry and Dudley. As Aunt Petunia was clearing the room for the one chair, Dudley was maliciously massaging his knuckles. Harry gulped.

The music started up again and the two started walking around the remaining chair. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge looked absolutely furious at the thought that_he_ could beat out their perfect little Dudders.

Aunt Marge came up with a solution as she stuck out her cane. It hit Harry hard in the shins, causing him to tumble to the ground. Dudley, who was walking as close up to his cousin as possible, tripped over his cousin and fell to the ground, creating a small earthquake in the sitting room. Harry felt the wind being pushed out of his lungs as his lardy tub of a cousin crushed him.

"I saw him, Vernon!" shouted Aunt Marge angrily, "I saw him do it! The boy purposely tripped Dudley over so that he could win!"

Uncle Vernon's look of fury turned suddenly into one of delight. Now, he can tell his nephew off for cheating….

Aunt Petunia looked ready to tell Aunt Marge what really happened but stopped herself right as she started stuttering.

Dudley sure took his time to get off Harry. He sure looked mad and now had a perfectly good reason to pound his scrawny cousin into a pancake. Before he got to him, though, Uncle Vernon came and grabbed Harry by the scruff of his itchy sweater.

"Go to your cup- your room, boy," he threatened and gave his nephew a rather harsh shove in the right direction. Harry didn't need to be told twice as he took off to his cupboard at top speed.

The party ended about an hour later. The doorbell rang repetitiously for ten minutes as parent after parent came to pick up their rather frightened child.

Harry had to wait for everyone to clear out before he could risk a food run. His stomach kept reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything all day.

The light in the cupboard seemed to be out for good. Harry desperately wished that it would still come on. Only the darkest of dark in his cupboard came on nights like this….

After all the guest plus Aunt Marge left, Harry heard Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps as he ascended the staircase, spraying sawdust in Harry's eyes. Next up was Dudley was he charged up the stairs, causing the sawdust to rain over Harry. Aunt Petunia was last to come. She was probably finishing cleaning and straightening up in the kitchen. As she walked by the cupboard, Harry heard her footsteps stop for a moment before she too went to bed.

Now that the house was silent, Harry desperately wished for his light to return. Suddenly, the bulb flickered back to life. Harry just figured that Dudley's pounding footsteps screwed the bulb in tighter.

As quietly as a mouse, Harry crept out of his cupboard and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge to make himself a small sandwich. He sat at the table, his emotions on hold as he quietly ate his midnight meal.

'If only they were alive,' Harry thought again sadly. His imagination came to play again. He could see them now, his mother and father sitting around the table with him. His pathetic sandwich had morphed itself into a grand chocolate cake. The streamers and balloons that were once up for Dudley's party returned, only now they were red and gold. His beloved stuffed dog was real and perched on the floor beside his chair, wagging its tail. 'If only they were real….'

"Make a wish, Harry," the voice of his mother would say. Harry would oblige, wishing for a way out of the Dursleys. He closed his eyes, blew out his invisible candles over his magic cake.

If he listened closely, he could have sworn he heard his parents clapping, his dog barking. Instead, he opened his eyes to the empty kitchen. Only he and his half eaten sandwich, now covered in spit were left. A sad smile tugged on his lips.

After raiding the kitchen a little more for food, Harry soon returned to his cupboard for the night. He once again dreamed all through the night, as happy as could be….

TBC

Next Chapter: First Day for All

The next chapter will be up within the next week.


	3. First Day for All

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

Author's Notes: Even though I'm back at school, I'll still update every week. Every Tuesday to be precise. I hate it when authors take forever to update after promising to do it sooner.

I'm actually glad that winter break is over. I had all of these High School swim practices to attend and all of these meets to participate in. With piano and violin added, it didn't feel much like a break. : (

In this chapter, Dudley and Harry have their first day of school. ( ;

**Chapter Three: First Day for All**

Fortunately, Dudley's birthday was the most catastrophic happening of the summer. Harry's own fifth birthday came and went unnoticed yet again. He sometimes questioned whether or not his relatives actually knew the day of his birthday….

Dudley certainly knew how to hold a grudge. He detested Harry for almost three months just because he almost lost at musical statues. As dumb as a peeve it may be, everything was competitive in Harry's cousin's eyes. Even Harry beating him to the salt shaker at the dinner table enraged Dudley. To take out his anger over his almost spoiled fifth birthday party, he pounded on anything or anyone in the general vicinity, including that certain brand new T.V….

Apart from Dudley's signature temper tantrums, the rest of the summer flew by typically. The days grew longer and the sun blazed extendedly on the now parched perfectly square lawns. Number Four was as boring and predictable as ever.

Harry spent most of his time outside. That way, he could avoid his cousin's attempts of snapping him in half out of revenge. Dudley was hardly seen away from the living room let alone outside the house. There was now a faint curve in the sofa where his abnormally large bum stayed perched everyday for hours on end.

While outside, Harry usually strolled down the walk to town. The town of Little Whinging was just bland and normal as the houses on Privet Drive. The roads were all clean and no litter inhabited the grass. It was also rather small, being a couple blocks in length and having only a few traffic lights. No tourist ever came, as there was nothing exciting to see.

Harry enjoyed walking into Little Whinging. He was now pretty familiar with the layout. He had found the school he's to attend soon on the south side of the main drag, only a ten to fifteen minute walk from the Dursleys. The school grounds were bordered with a heavy iron fence that was at least twice as tall of Harry. He never went too close to it, but from what he could see, it looked like a prevalent red brick building, camouflaged by the rest of the red bricked stores of the town. When he strolled by while school was in session, he could watch all of the older children run and yell on the playground. In the past, Harry would purposely walk by to spy in on the other kids playing. He would always find himself grasping the cold iron gates, wishing hard to join them.

At least he was allowed in the public library. The run down yet still beautiful building wasn't too far from the Dursleys either. The outside walls always fascinated Harry as ivy grew there vertically. This made the place easy to spot while on the opposite side of the street. Harry would typically walk on the bike path to stay away from the busy lanes when he ventured to the library. Even though he couldn't read, he enjoyed staying at the there since it was quiet, he was called a freak just because he was born, no body would yell at him for asking questions, and it was the last place on Earth Dudley would ever be.

The main drag of the town was where most of the people could be found. Store fronts, restaurants, and banks were all spread out over the approximate two mile road.

Betty's Florist was the first shop in town. With a small garden area in the front, Harry would walk by a take a look at the handing flowers and potted roots.

There was this Greek restaurant down town where Uncle Vernon liked to bring the family for dinner on Saturday nights. If Harry was good and did all of his chores, he was sometimes permitted to go, depending on whether or not his relatives were in a good mood. The whole place smelled like olives and the waiter once brought out an appetizer of flaming cheese. Dudley was really intrigued when he watched it be lit on fire, only to devour it moments later. Harry remembered it as one of his fonder memories. If only he remembered the name of the dish, he developed a taste for Greek food.

Aunt Petunia's favorite coffee shop, the Blue Bean, was always crowded with adults trying to get a cup to go on their way to work. Harry didn't know what was so good about coffee. He had accidentally taken a sip of his Aunt's mug, only to spit it out in the sink two seconds later.

One of the only shops Harry actually went to one the main street was the ice cream parlor. Harry would usually sit outside, enjoying the smell of ice cream drift through the door as people entered and exited. If only he had a little money on him, the first place he would go to spend it was there.

Those were basically the only places Harry had ever been to in Little Whinging. There were still roads and shops he hasn't ever covered. How much could be expected of a five year old?

And if Harry didn't want to take lengthy walk into downtown Little Whinging, he would usually stay closer to Privet Drive by going to the small playground on the corner. It wasn't much, but to the eyes of a toddler, it was as good as heaven. The climber was usually infested with small kids but on boiling hot days in the midst of summer, Harry usually had it all to himself.

If Dudley were to ever set foot outside of the house, he would be found at the park. Just this past spring, he went to the park to test out his new bike with training wheels while his father supervised. In the fall, he would take his mother's hand and trudge off under the trees to play in the leaves. Dudley wouldn't go near the trail into the woods even if he held his mother's hand. He often told Harry of the creepy ghost who eats children.

Harry didn't mind the scary walking path into the woods. His favorite part of the park had to be the swings though. If he pumped his short legs and got high enough, he felt like he could fly!

Even today, Harry would keep a safe distance between himself and the sandbox. He didn't forget what Dudley did to him there not to long ago….

Summer had to be one of the best times of the year for Harry. Not because of the nice, hot weather or for the crisp, clear blue skies, it was because it's the one season he could stay away from the Dursleys the most. It was quiet the double win for everyone. Harry got out of the Dursleys' hair and the Dursleys got out of Harry's.

Winter was the worst for Harry. By having to stay inside all day, both he and his family were stuck with each other. He usually had to stay inside and do chores while Dudley and his father would go outside and build a snow man. Harry would watch sadly from the window as he helped his Aunt sweep the floors of the kitchen. The snow had looked like loads of fun….

Spring and fall were of equal likings of Harry. When it was warm outside, Harry could creep out of the house and wonder around. When it would be cold, he would have to stay inside and be miserable all day.

Unfortunately, Little Whinging had rather long, cold winters….

….Except this year would be different. This year, Harry and Dudley would start school. Upon learning what school was, Harry could barely mask his joy as he had the strong urge to jump up and down for joy. As for Dudley, he was rather traumatized to hear that they don't have T.V. time. He drug out his little boy drama for days. Harry considered himself lucky that he could go outside. At least there, he couldn't hear Dudley's wailing.

Both he and Dudley would start school on the first of September. Harry would count down the days on the large calendar hanging on the fridge. Dudley would try to cram in all hours of morning cartoons to last him the whole year. His lower lip still trembled at the slight mention of the school, or as he put it, prison.

The last day of August just couldn't seem to end. At the dinner table, Dudley would stab his mac and cheese gloomily. Harry was as quiet as he normally was, eating what he could while maintaining a constant eye on Dudley. He was expecting an angry punch to head his way at any minute.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seemed to be doing the same thing. They would look up all of the sudden at the smallest moves Dudley would make. Both of them were certainly weary from their son's nonstop number of melt downs.

They practically jumped when Dudley shoved his food away and abruptly hopped off his chair. Unaware of everyone's anxious eyes on him, he trudged his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Harry figured that he was trying to get a couple more hours of T.V. in.

The rest of the family then heard a door slam close upstairs. Aunt Petunia gave a heavy sigh as she swirled her food around on its plate.

"Don't worry, Petunia," Uncle Vernon assured. Harry didn't think he looked personally assured though. He was patting his face with his napkin and looked like he was about to burst out laughing. "He'll cool down after a good hour or so."

He, Aunt Petunia, and Harry then heard the door upstairs get opened and shut closed repetitiously. Aunt Petunia's brow frowned as she put her unfinished dinner down and headed for the stairs. Dudley sure wasn't going to calm down anytime soon….

That night, Harry kept tossing and turning on the small cot in his cupboard. He had checked his laid out clothes about five times before turning out his light, but kept waking up to make sure he didn't forget anything. It wasn't as if he had much to lose, but he was afraid of Dudley finally achieving his revenge by stealing all of his clothes. There_were_ all once his by the way.

Breakfast the next morning was just as uncomfortable as dinner the previous night. Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon presented Dudley with a small bag for school to cheer him up. Aunt Petunia found him a nice yellow standardized bag. Uncle Vernon got him a red backpack with hot rod flames on it. When Dudley's close to tears eyes spotted the red one, a large grin spread out on his face. He was sure to be the coolest kid at school with his hot rod flames….

Aunt Petunia looked rather hurt when her son didn't approve of his yellow bag. Harry vaguely remembered it being one of his cousin's birthday presents that he just tossed aside at first glance.

"Just keep it as backup, dear," Uncle Vernon told his wife. Dudley looked positively flabbergasted at these words.

"I don't want it!" He wailed, looking for another door to slam shut over and over again to prove his point. His wide fingers found the knob of the kitchen door. "I don't want it! I don't! I don't! I d-"

"Why, Dudders?" his mother asked loudly over his fake crying. "Tell mummy what's wrong with it, please?"

Dudley looked at her unruly, "It's yellow. That's a girl color! I'm not a girl!" He then slammed the door so hard that Harry was sure it was about to come off of its hinges.

"But I though yellow was your favorite color," Aunt Petunia exclaimed gravely but her son wasn't listening. Uncle Vernon finally pulled his baby whale away from the door.

"Come on Dudders," he said gruffly, dodging his son's flying limbs. "It would make your mother very happy. You want her to be happy, don't you?"

Dudley shook his blonde hair while clamping his ears shut. "No! No no no! _No_!"

"Now what am I going to do with it, Vernon?" Aunt Petunia asked her husband tiredly. "I spent good money on it too! We just can't through it out!"

Harry looked up at them hopefully. Dudley escaped his father's grasp and was now running around the room with his ears clamped yelling 'no' on the top of his lungs. Uncle Vernon's piggish eyes fell on his rather small nephew. Then, he and Aunt Petunia shared a small glance….

Harry couldn't believe his luck as he was sporting a bag of his own. He didn't care if yellow was a little girly, it's not like it was pink! He was practically glowing at the table as he munched on his toast. The day was certainly looking up.

"Well, it's about that time," Uncle Vernon exclaimed, glancing at his watch. Aunt Petunia almost looked relieved, almost. "Are you ready for your first day of school, Dudders?" he asked. Dudley nodded somberly. He had barely touched his breakfast.

Aunt Petunia had packed Dudley a nice, large lunch with a thermos of soup. Harry almost looked hopeful as he wondered if he was packed a nice lunch too.

He should have kicked himself for ever being too hopeful. One miracle was enough for the day, apparently as Aunt Petunia shoved some change in his hand.

"This should cover your lunch," she said with unnecessary venom in her voice. Her contorted face turned soft as she walked over to her son to do her routine of mollycoddling.

"Oh! My little Dinky-Dumdums is all grown up! Oh, mummy is so proud of you!" Even his mothers cuddling couldn't cheer Dudley up. He still seemed ready to explode into another wave of screaming. This unnerved his mother quite a lot. The walls of the house weren't that thick, you know….

"Hurry up, Petunia! We're gonna be late!" came Uncle Vernon's hasted voice. He was already at the door with his car keys in hand. Aunt Petunia wrapped up her spoiling before turning back into the kitchen. She didn't even spare her nephew a second glance.

Both Harry and Dudley went out to the car with Uncle Vernon. Apparently, he was going to drop off the two boys at school on his way to work. Once again, Harry was disappointed as Uncle Vernon turned on him as he was about to climb in after Dudley.

"What are you doing, boy?" He asked rather loudly. He then looked alarmed as he glanced around the street, searching for eavesdroppers. When he found none, he glared down at his nephew, his voice still angry but rather hushed.

"I'm driving Dudders to school today, boy," he whispered speedily. "You are going to walk your selfish behind like I used to. Uphill both ways, it's one hell of a march. I'm sure you know where to go!" He grinned nastily as he hopped in the driver's seat.

Dudley soon noticed that his sad-excuse-of-a-cousin wasn't coming. His fake pouting washed away immediately as he mirrored his father's evil smirk. Harry watched as they drove away, Dudley pressing his fat, ugly face against the mirror at him as they turned the corner.

Harry sadly trudged off to school, his yellow girly bag on his back and his small amount of money clanging in his pocket of his oversized corduroys. Maybe today wasn't gonna be as great as he thought….

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Successfully, Harry arrived right on time. He had walked the five blocks to the south end of Main Street so fast his legs were burning. When he got there, he could still see other kids coming in. Harry exhaled the air he was unaware of holding, he was rather sure he would end up late….

He had never walked up this close to the school. It was an all red brick building with windows every couple meters. There were small trees and scrubs in the front that were freshly cut and welcoming. There was only one story to the whole building and the wave-like slope of the roof reminded Harry of mountain tops for some reason.

Abruptly, a pang of nervousness struck the bottom of Harry's stomach. He had just realized that he had no idea where to go. What if the other kids didn't like him? What if they were all big fat Dudley clones that will pull his hair and snap his glasses everyday…?

Taking a large gulp of air, Harry dove through the small crowd of people entering the building. If he was going to find his classroom and be on time, he will have to start moving it.

Once inside, Harry felt that he was in some type of maze. All of the gray stoned walls looked the same. There were people everywhere as well, even grown ups. Apparently, parents take their children in to get settled on the first day of school. Was Uncle Vernon here too?

Taking a sharp turn around a corner, Harry was disappointed to find yet another long hallway, except this hallway wasn't bare. It had a large banner hanging at the end of the hall. Harry couldn't really make out what it said but he saw a group of small children in a line underneath the banner, they were all his size.

From what Harry could make out, the line was some type of registry. A child and their mum or dad would go up and tell their name. The nice looking ladies behind the fold out desks would look at a long list before pointing out a classroom.

Harry joined the line to the left, praying that he was in the right place. The line went rather fast. One moment he was deep in thought, wondering where Dudley was. The next, a small girl was nudging him in the small of his back. Looking up, he realized that he was next to go.

The nice lady behind the desk gave him a kind smile as he approached her. She had a light brown-reddish hair color that was cut right before it reached her shoulders. Her face was round and pale with some freckles. She was slightly plump but healthy.

"Hello, I'm Miss McKenna. What's yours?" She asked politely in her little kid voice. She straightened up her long list of papers.

"I'm," Harry started to say, his voice very raspy. He realized that he hadn't said anything at all today.

"Don't be shy," Miss McKenna said gently. "Today is everyone's first day of school."

"I'm," he started again, clearing his throat, "I'm Harry."

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Harry," she said kindly, "but I need your last name too."

"P-Potter," Harry said abruptly, "My name's Harry Potter."

"Potter, eh?" Miss McKenna started flipping through her papers. "Potter. Potter. Potter. Potter. Potter…." Harry's heart dropped. What if his name wasn't on the list? What if this were all some type of mistake? Would he have to spend the rest of his life in his cupboard with the Dursleys…?

"Here you are, Harry," she exclaimed, pointing at his name on the list. Harry's heart started beating again. "And look at that! You're in my class! My room is right over there." She pointed at the door right to their right. Through the small window in the door, Harry could see other children running around.

Harry reached up to turn the knob of the door, happy that he had found the right classroom without being late. Opening the door, Harry's eyes widened as he took in everything. There were small clustered tables in the majority of the room, all with name tags on them. On his immediate left, there was a small cubby area for everyone's bag and coat. Near the back of the room was the teacher's desk. On her desk was a cage of birds, happily chirping at their company. All of the walls were covered with colorful pictures and cartoon characters reciting numbers or letters of the alphabet. In the back corner of the room was a large rainbow carpet where most of the children were, including a certainly large baby whale.

Dudley was sitting in one of the bean bags on the edge of the carpet. Uncle Vernon was standing next to him, talking to one of the other parents. Dudley saw his cousin come closer, his jaw dropping. Apparently, he hadn't expected Harry to make it to school at all. Dudley turned to his dad and tugged on his pants leg.

"Daddy," he exclaimed, "you won't believe who's here!"

"Who, Dudders?" Uncle Vernon asked, diverting his attention to his huge son. "Don't tell me it's that hoodlum's kid we saw in the parking lot!"

"No Daddy," Dudley started, pointing his finger at Harry, "it's _him_!"

Uncle Vernon's pig-like eyes fell on his nephew. He looked ready to charge after Harry, with the look on his face.

"How did you get here, boy?" He asked, his voice mean, but soft. The other parents were other peeping at the three.

"I-I walked," Harry said timidly. He wasn't sure why Uncle Vernon was mad at him. How else was he supposed to get to school?

"And you're in Dudley's class?" Uncle Vernon continued. His face was starting to turn a nasty shade of purple.

"I guess," Harry shrugged. He wouldn't have been surprised if steam started coming out of his Uncle's ears.

"I-you-I'm gonna," he started, his arms stretched out to grab Harry's shirt collar. He then noticed that other parents were watching them. His face turned to mock concern. "I'm gonna have a talk with the teacher, boys." The rough hands that were about ready to strangle Harry gave him a pat on the back as Uncle Vernon walked out of the room.

Both Harry and Dudley shared glances between each other. They both seemed to agree on the same thing as the tore off to the door. They stood on tippy-toe to see through the window of the door, just as Uncle Vernon approached Miss McKenna.

They couldn't hear the conversation, but they knew what was going on. Uncle Vernon obviously didn't want his good-two-shoes son and his good-for-nothing nephew in the same class. Miss McKenna thought otherwise as she pointed out her list of names and shrugged.

Harry and Dudley backed away from the door as the two approached and came through the door. Miss McKenna's kid voice came back as she rounded up all of the students. All of the mums and dads were saying their goodbyes and heading out. Uncle Vernon turned to the two boys.

"Well, I'm off to work you two," he said. He addressed Harry too, knowing that he couldn't bad mouth him in a room full of witnesses. He gave Dudley a small hug and Harry an awkward pat on the head before turning heel and heading out.

"Okay boys and girls," Miss McKenna started up again in a sing-song voice, "let us all gather around the magic carpet!" She had everyone sit in a circle on the rainbow carpet. Dudley pushed and shoved his way so he could get back his already occupied bean bag chair.

Harry took a seat between the sandy-haired kid he recognized from Dudley's birthday and some girl he didn't know. Supposedly, the two boys had the same thing in mind, stay away from Dudley.

"All right everyone," Miss McKenna started, "Today is the first day of school. Aren't we all excited?"

"Yes!" Everyone recited back. In fact, Harry was rather excited to be at school. If only he and Dudley weren't in the same class...

"Now," she continued, "since everyone doesn't know each other, we are going to play a little game."

"Ooooo," the class sounded excited at the sound of a game. Harry's spirit seemed to soar as well. He was pretty sure he'd be allowed to join in this game.

"Yes," Miss McKenna replied, "a game to get to know each other. Now, we are going to go around the circle on the magic carpet and we are going to first say our name, and then tell the class what we want to be when we grow up."

Everyone appeared thrilled to participate, but Harry was slightly apprehensive. What_did_ he want to be when he grew up?

"I'll start the game," Miss McKenna said. All of the little kids leaned in to take in everything that the teacher has to say. "My name is Miss McKenna and since I'm already grown up, I'm a nursery teacher." All of the children let out exclaims of 'oooh' and 'ahhh' as if they didn't know this.

"My name is Carol," came the small voice of the blonde girl to the left of Miss McKenna. Everyone replied with a round of 'Hi Carol'.

"And what do you want to be when you grow up?" Miss McKenna asked supportively. Carol fidgeted with her striped pink dress.

"I wanna be a cook," said let out timidly. The class let out a chorus of 'oooh's and 'ahhh's.

"Maybe you can make us lunch one day, Carol," the teacher said. Everyone instantly smiled at the mention of food. Carol, though, turned a brilliant shade of red.

"My name is Mark," came the next kid. He had windswept brown hair and hazel colored eyes. "When I grow up, I wanna be a garbage man!" All of the girls in the class squealed out in disgust. On the other hand, all of the boys thought this was the coolest thing. Harry even heard someone exclaim, "I wanna be a garbage man, _too_!"

"Alright everyone, settle down! Who's next?" asked Miss McKenna as the classroom hushed. A tan girl with dark, curly hair and brown eyes raised her hand.

"My name's Christina, but I like to go by Nina," she stated shyly, "and when I grow up, I _don't_ want to be a garbage man." The class giggled as Mark gave her an appalled look.

"Why's that, Nina?" asked Miss McKenna, "what's wrong with the garbage men?"

"N-nothing," Nina stuttered. "I just don't think I could stand the smell of rubish all day. Besides, I'd get _really_ tired."

As more and more kids introduced themselves, Harry grew nervous. What did he want to be when he grew up?

Anything that keeps him away from the Dursleys seemed like a good answer to him. But that wasn't a _real_ job (even though it was a hard job for him to stay away from his family). He always liked animals, he kept eyeing to birds in the cage. Also, he liked planes. How many days of the summer did he spend laying on the grass, watching to planes fly above his head?

"My name is Frank, but my mummy calls me Boo-Boo," came the next boy, "when I grow up I want to be a professional football player, like my daddy."

"My name is Che and I want to be a ballerina!"

"My name is Frank Thomas," said the sandy haired boy next to Harry. "b-but I go by FT," he exclaimed quickly as the other Frank in the class was glaring at him ominously. "When I grow up, I want to be a baby doctor." All of the girls sighed as Harry gulped. It was his turn.

"M-my," he started, shaking slightly, "my name is H-Harry." He still didn't know whether he wanted to be a zoo worker or a pilot….

"And what do you want to be when you grow up?" the teacher asked gently. Harry grew slightly more confident.

"And I want to fly planes _and_ work at the zoo!" He exclaimed proudly. The class seemed pretty astounded by this feat. The boys exclaimed about how cool it would be to fly a plane while the girls exclaimed about how cute koalas are.

"Quiet the busy man, Harry!" Miss McKenna exclaimed. Harry's muscles loosened up a bit, that wasn't so bad.

Dudley, otherwise, looked like he was fuming. How dare his cousin impress everyone when no one was impressed when he revealed that he wanted to be like his father and work in an office. He picked up the bean bag he was sitting on and charged after Harry. He practically jumped on the smaller boy, pinning him under his bean bag chair.

"Dudley, what are you doing?!" exclaimed Miss McKenna. She difficultly tried to pull the pseudo baby whale up with a heavy heave. Harry took a big gulp of air as his boulder-like cousin rolled off of him. He sat up straight and adjusted his glasses, at least they were still in tact. The sandy-haired kid next to him, FT, looked almost nauseous at the frightening sight of Dudley.

"Now Dudley," the teacher started sternly, but her kiddy-voice was still there, "we don't hurt others, especially our cousins. Now, why don't you apologize?" Harry almost snorted at the thought. 'Dudley …apologizing!?'

But Dudley wouldn't do it. He clamped him mouth shut and shook his head stubbornly. The teacher kept pestering him to apologize but the more she tried, the closer Dudley was to bursting out in hysterics.

Sighing softly, Miss McKenna seemed to have no other choice. "It's either that or the corner, young man!" Harry was sure he caught Dudley cower faintly away from his teacher. He definitely wasn't making that necessary good impression.

Harry received another shock of the day as Dudley slowly got up from the ground and headed to the corner. He didn't understand this… Dudley never listens to his mother, yet he has known her all of his life. Then, he meets someone for five minutes and already obeys them like a loyal dog?

Harry took a quick glance to the door, wondering whether or not his cousin would start slamming it shut.

But he didn't! If this teacher could keep Dudley away from him, then _maybe_ this year would be an unmistakable improvement from previous ones, Harry calculated in his brain while Dudley took a seat on the short stool in the corner. The legs of the chair bent a little under his vast bottom.

Harry thereupon imagined his cousin sporting a dunce cap and didn't bother covering up his smile. He sure was gonna like school….

TBC

Next Chapter: The class takes a field trip picnic one day and Harry is fitting in to school much better than Dudley is. Harry meets a very nice girl who he thinks will be his first best friend.


	4. New Friend?

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

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Author's Notes: You know what's really dumb? Having Semester Exams after Winter Break so that you come back and forget everything.

This week of exams and swimming is very stressful. Our OCC Champs are coming up along with Sectionals, Districts, and States. Even so, I'm still going to update somehow. Every Tuesday: )

Last Time: Harry went to his first day of school. After realizing that Dudley couldn't harm him on the school property without getting in trouble, he knows he's gonna like school.

Onto the Story…!

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**Chapter Four: New Friend?**

The humid, sticky days of summer drifted away, only to be replaced with the cool, brisk air of fall. The leaves were just starting to develop a slight orangish hue to them. The slightly heavy winds caused them to fall prematurely on the still perfectly kept square lawns of Privet Drive. Even though the weather outside decided to change, the houses in Little Whinging still kept to their constant daily routine.

Except for Number Four Privet Drive.

Change lingered in the house like a dull smell. Sure the walls were still color coordinated and the furniture as neatly arranged and as spotless as ever, the living inhabitants of the house were adjusting. Not so well if I might add….

The once abominable Dudley was now sulky and mute. His door slamming was now a repetitious act to show his parents just _how_ much he hated school. And he must loath school very much, seeing how there was hardly a peaceful time with no doors banging.

Uncle Vernon was unnerved by his son's behavior. He shared his concerns with his wife, saying how maybe they started school too early for Dudley. Aunt Petunia reassured Uncle Vernon that their son will adapt soon, even though she didn't look as lighthearted as she intended. Uncle Vernon tried to act untroubled over Dudley and his loud door banging, but Harry was once woken up in the middle of the night to hear him tightening the hinges of the kitchen door with a drill….

Aunt Petunia repetitively tried to sooth Dudley's tantrums through candy and toys. Surprisingly, not even an even _more_ brand new T.V. for the kitchen and a mountain of Mars Bars would calm the pseudo-baby whale down. But Harry saw through his cousin's trick. Somehow, that miniature brain under Dudley's fat head realized that the more he kept up with his whining and complaining, the more goods he would get from Mummy. Once at the breakfast table, he was unwrapping his fourth candy bar when Harry entered the kitchen. Instead of devouring his chocolate in three swallows like he usually does, Dudley would slowly let it melt in his mouth, keeping his smirking piggish eyes on his scrawny cousin.

Only this time, Harry didn't care too much. The much larger brain in his head knew better than to fall for Dudley's tricks, especially now that he couldn't even get away with tripping Harry by the drinking fountain at school.

'I won this time, Dudley,' Harry thought smugly as he purposely didn't even glance at his cousin who was now licking his fat fingers clean of chocolate. 'I won this time and will win again…'

Harry had gone through quite a noticeable change, even though he couldn't see it for himself. Don't get me wrong, the shy, timid little boy was still there, but was now hiding under the new and more confident Harry. It was now _his _turn to intimidate his cousin, and he was enjoying every second of it.

School was probably one of the best things that could have happened to Harry's life. Never had he been free to do what everyone else was doing without being flattened from Dudley's rather large bottom.

St. Mary's Primary School and Nursery was now like a second home to Harry. The once foreign halls were now effortless to navigate. There were still hallways and classrooms he hasn't ventured to yet, but Harry was familiar with the places he has class in.

The lunch room was a big open space full of small rectangular tables. Harry didn't have to worry about finding a group to sit with since the whole class was to stay at their designated table. As long as he was as far away to Dudley as possible, he was content.

And the food wasn't as bad as the older kids' make it out to be. It was actually much better than the scraps of food he got at home. The cheese sticks were obviously Harry's favorite dish but the school mac and cheese wasn't too far behind on his favorites list.

When Aunt Petunia gives him lunch money every morning, she would actually give him a little more than the standardized price. Harry planned on taking a trip to the bakery once he had saved up on money and confidence.

Not only that, Harry was sure the lunch ladies liked him a lot. It wasn't just once when one of them noticed Harry's small figure before filling his tray of an uncertainly large serving of reconstituted mashed potatoes.

Recess was the only time of the day Harry disliked. Even with a teacher supervising them as the children ran around free on the playground, Dudley would still get away with tormenting his classmates, especially his cousin. Sometimes, Harry would hide in the tube slide when Dudley walked by. He would often stay hidden there until another kid pushes him down the slide.

Music class on Tuesdays and Thursdays were a lot of fun for Harry. It was a whole half-an-hour of playing with instruments; almost like an indoor recess, but better. His music teacher, Mrs. Moss, played all of the instruments impressively in front of the class while they watched, just anxious to try one. When she said so, Mrs. Moss allowed the small toddlers to run amongst and experiment. As the rest of his class raced towards the eagerly looking drum set, Harry stayed slightly behind. He had never played an instrument before and the old upright piano in the corner had caught his eye more than once during the teachers' demonstration….

His classmates were all too busy taking turns over the drums to notice it. Dudley of course forced his way up to the front of the line. He banged on the sides of the drum so hard that he blew a hole in one of the sides.

Harry would spend the whole thirty minutes of his music class perched on the piano bench, his legs too short to reach the petals. He would punch out random notes, wishing he had the gift to play as beautifully as Mrs. Moss….

Story time in the library was one of Harry's favorites. Some of classmates were rather bouncy as they couldn't even sit still two minutes into the story. Those like Harry who were intrigued and drawn in by the fairy tale would often hush their classmates before returning their eyes to the ancient looking librarian, Mrs. Orr.

Harry was very fond of the school library. It didn't have as many books as the library down the street, but here, he could check out as many books as he wanted for free, as long as he turned them in on time. Now, he didn't have to take the long stroll downtown to look at the picture books.

Art was another class Harry enjoyed immensely. Their first art project was painting a self portrait of themselves. So far, Harry has drawn out the shape of his face and glasses. It bugged him slightly that the picture of himself he had in his head didn't even look _remotely_ close to his portrait….

Nap time was heavenly to Harry. The pillow and blanket he received were softer and warmer then the ratty old ones he has stashed in his cupboard. Dudley would always claim his throne about the bean bag chair. No one fought with him over it. Harry would curl up in the rickety rocking chair since it was the farthest chair from Dudley. Often times, he would dream of himself sitting on his mother's lap as she read him a story in the rocking chair.

Even though he had started enjoying his classes from day one, it took a little longer to fit in with his classmates. They didn't have dirty hand-me-downs from their cousin or taped up glasses. Harry wasn't even worried about them asking about his scar since they would never see it with his untidy bangs in the way.

Harry never really had the chance to interact with others his age, apart from Dudley. After a couple days of tentative mingling, he seemed to fit in with his classmates well enough. Naturally, he was rather quite and stayed in the back to watch. What was fortunate enough for him is that he had classmates who would notice his absence and pull him back in. There were several occasions where Harry had a fellow classmate take his hand and lead him back to the center of discussion.

All of Harry's classmates were very nice. Well, Dudley doesn't really count here since he was never nice to anybody. The once spoiled brat who always got his way was all just a memory while in school. The new Dudley would come out the moment he steps in the door at 8:40 a.m.. He was watchful of the teacher's attention and censored every word that exits his mouth.

As a matter of fact, the class all hated or feared Dudley, sometimes both. The sandy-haired boy FT was terrified of Dudley. Every time they made eye contact, Frank turns about five shades paler. He was often times the kid who clung to Ms. McKenna's leg when the class traveled down the hallway.

Mark the 'garbage man' was a big daydreamer like Harry. The two often played with the love birds on the teacher's desk while wondering where they would go if they were ever to be set free….

Both Carol and Che were inseperatable of each other. You would have thought they were twin sisters, the way they hung out. They often swung on the swing set in unison while belting out incoherent song lyrics on the top of their lungs. On Monday, Carol would braid Che's hair in pigtails so that they matched hers. Both had a complete wardrobe of pink and purple as well. Harry didn't have much to say about them; they were the stereotypical girls, nothing more, nothing less.

Nina was just as timid and shy to the world as Harry was. When raising her hand to answer a question, she would usually start stuttering out her answer first before her voice had a diminuendo down to a practically mute whisper.

Boo-Boo was more like a big baby then a future football player. He rarely talked and would stare at passing by kids with his rather abnormally large brown eyes. He had a relatively gross habit on sticking things in his mouth. Carol practically shrieked once when Boo-Boo put her hand in his mouth and started drooling on it.

School soon made Harry the happiest he's ever been. With no Dudley to bother him, no Aunt or Uncle to load him with chores, and a class full of kids who liked him, not even having to wear his worn down shirt and shorts made him upset.

Unfortunately, Harry's good misfortune would soon too bad. It was as fast a transition from summer to fall. The beginning of downhill started when Ms. McKenna made an important announcement to the class.

"Everybody gather 'round," she called to the kids. They had just finished their cutting and pasting activity. Sticky glue was smeared on Harry's fingers. He rubbed it off harshly on his worn down corduroys.

All the children tore off towards their teacher, all wanting to sit close at her feet. FT had to push some five-year-olds out of the way so that he could return to his normal spot on the teacher's leg.

"I have two big surprises for you today!" She told excitingly. The classroom filled with the kids' delighted exclaims. Dudley huffed loudly, his arms crossed so tight they looked like they were cutting off the circulation to his fingers. He didn't like his school teacher, not one bit.

"First off, I want to tell everyone that next Friday, we're going to attend the annual nursery Halloween party!" The class all took a big gasp of air in before going off in their own little tangents. All of their thoughts matched as they summed up that a party meant candy and candy meant happiness. The realization of this brought wide grins to their faces. Even Dudley stopped his pouting act to listen in.

"Everyone is to wear their Halloween costume and show it to the class. Also, we will be spending the whole day outside so bring sunscreen and bug repellant. For lunch, I want you all to pack. We're gonna have a picnic out in the grass." Ms. McKenna then handed out fliers to all of the children. Their hands were extended, trying to get the first paper.

"Now class," the teacher started, raising the stack of papers up higher. "Everyone will get one so just be patient." But patience and five year olds never mixed. They want it, and they want it now. "Give these to your parents and make sure they understand everything about our picnic." Harry folded his paper and tucked in his pocket. Boo-Boo was chewing on the side of his flier.

Ms. McKenna stashed the extra papers away before continuing her list of daily announcements. "Today is also a very special day, class," she began. The circle of children around her leaned in to pickup every word that comes out of her mouth. "Today, we have a new classmate! She and her parents just moved here and they are considering home school. If she likes school here, then she will spend the rest of the year with us." All the kids were eager to meet their new classmate, whoever she was.

"Where is she?" Mark asked, trying to glance around the teachers legs to get a good look at the door. Maybe she was just on the other side.

"She won't come and visit us until tomorrow," Ms. McKenna explained. "I just wanted to tell you all now so that we can give her the biggest, most bestest welcome we can!" All the children shouted 'yeah' in agreement. Some even got up on their feet to help get rid of some of the anxiety.

"What's her name?" Carol asked loudly. She and Che looked happy to know that another girl was joining their boy invested class.

"Her name is Danielle and she is very excited to meet you all!" Ms. McKenna assured. "She also has an older brother named Ron who is four years older. Anyways, it's almost your lunch time. Line up everyone! We have to be quiet as we go through the hall. The other classes are trying to learn."

'I wonder what she's like,' Harry wondered as he pulled his loose change out of his pocket. 'Whoever she is, I hope Dudley doesn't do anything to her….'

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The next day, Harry hiked to school in a half happy, half sad mood. His feelings were just as split as the fifty-fifty cream Uncle Vernon put in his coffee that morning. Sure he was thrilled to meet the new girl, but he had this remarkable dream that was currently slipping out of his mind. Whenever he tried to reach out of it, corner it in the edges of his mind, it would disappear without a trace.

All he could remember was sitting on the carpet of an unfamiliar sitting room. As strange as it may seem, he saw a large number of red heads come out of the fire. The red headed children were all different ages and all liked playing with Harry. They were in the middle of building their block castle-masterpiece when Harry woke to Aunt Petunia's shrilly voice.

At school, everyone was sitting on the edges of their desk anxiously. While some were twiddling their thumbs mindlessly (Boo-Boo was sucking on his with loud, disgusting slurps), the door opened suddenly.

Ever head popped up instantly. Only for them to sigh loudly as it was only Mark returning from using the bathroom. He walked back to his desk, keeping an eye on Dudley. He looked rather malicious today. Harry figured that he was excited to meet his new victim….

Another painful five minutes drug by as the class sat at end. The new girl was said to come by around noon. The clock above the door read 3:09 (the class just learned how to tell time, just to realize that all the clocks in the school are off). The second hand made its way around at a sluggish pace. After what felt like an additional five minutes, Harry glanced back up at the clock, noticing that only two minutes have gone by. He was sure that the silent wait was longer than that; he was surprised that the clock hadn't stopped yet altogether.

Another supposed minute went by; Carol let out a remarkably large sneeze….

Two more minutes past; Dudley was tapping his fingers loudly on the surface of his desk….

Three minutes afterwards; FT gulped loudly. Dudley had just sent him a tormenting glare….

One minute later; Carol got up to blow her nose….

Thirty seconds; Harry was about ready to die of boredom….

….when all the sudden, the door opened. Dudley wiped his face with innocence while everyone's head in the class snapped up in a perfect synchronized movement.

In the doorway was Ms. McKenna. Standing next to her, not quite reaching her waist was the new girl, Danielle. Her hair was short, thick, and blonde. It was cut in a way that it was hovering over her shoulders a good two inches. Her aqua colored eyes were round and light. She wore a simple polka-dotted red dress that went to her knees. In her hair was a simple red ribbon.

"Can everyone say 'hi' to Danielle?" said Ms. McKenna. Danielle didn't even hide behind the teacher's leg as class let out a round of 'hi, Danielle!' Instead, she walked over and took a seat in the empty in the only unoccupied desk. Harry felt hesitant with himself; the new girl was sitting in the desk right next to him.

"And what do you want to be when you grow up, Danielle?" Ms. McKenna asked as she took her normal spot up front of the classroom. Danielle seemed to be thinking for minute, her eyes wandering the classroom as her brain churned.

"I want to work at the zoo," she replied, clearly, no trace of stuttering or nervousness was in her voice. Just her presence and voice made the first impression of a very calm and confident girl. Harry felt beneficial to just sit next to her.

It took him a good minute to realize that that's what he wants to be when he grew up as well. Harry wanted to talk to her, to tell her that maybe they will work together with the animals at the zoo. Instead, he bit his tongue. What if she didn't like his oversized hand-me-down clothes?

Ms. McKenna had the class all go around and tell Danielle their name and what they wanted to be when they grow up. Harry wasn't paying too much attention though; he was staring at the new girl, his head full on images of the two of them cleaning out the monkey cages together….

"Harry, it's your turn…. Harry?" Harry's head snapped up quickly, looking around. The girls all giggled at him as he sat up in his chair sheepishly.

"Okay," he started. He turned to Danielle, his throat closing at the sight of her. "I… um… I'm… Harry." His voice's volume decreased to one of a whisper.

"Speak up a bit, deary," Ms. McKenna suggested. He could hear Dudley snicker from the other side of the room.

Harry felt a slight blush paint his face. He shook his head before almost yelling out, "and I want to be a pilot _and_ a zoo keeper when I grow up!"

As everyone finished introducing themselves, Harry returned back to his shell. What was he _thinking_, yelling out like that?!

"You want to work at the zoo when you grow up?" Someone asked him. Harry peered out of his shell cautiously. Danielle was looking at him, and _talking to him_…!

Crawling out of his shell confidently, Harry turned back to the girl sitting next to him. "Y-yeah, I want to work at the z-zoo…."

"Me too," Danielle replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Oh," Harry replied softly, his eyes wandering to look at anything than her pretty green eyes. "M-my names Harry."

"Harry," she said subtly. She gave him a small smile before returning her attention to the front of the room. Harry's heart was beating loudly in his chest. No one has ever said his name as beautifully as she just did….

It was a very good thing everyone's eyes were on Ms. McKenna as continued reviewing the first ten numbers on the chalk board. If anyone spared a glimpse of him, they would have noticed the truly immeasurable grin on his face….

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"And then she got to sit on the bean bag chair during story time," Dudley was complaining loudly at dinner. He had told his parents _everything_ about Danielle, including how she got to do everything first because she was the _new_ girl.

"Well that's not too fair, don't you think, deary?" Uncle Vernon asked Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia obviously didn't think it was unfair, but she nodded her head quickly, not wanting to cross her son. "This is nursery, people! Everyone's a new kid. What makes her so special by coming a few weeks later?"

Dudley looked happy that his father was on his son's side here. Now, they could both complain to Ms. McKenna together! Harry on the other hand was swirling his spaghetti in circles with his fork. The pasta went around once, twice, three times before Aunt Petunia barked at him to stop; only Harry wasn't listening. Only one thing was on his mind at the moment. One person, more like it….

There wasn't one person in Harry's class (not including Dudley) that didn't like Danielle. And what was there not to like about her? She was smart and could already count to one hundred forwards and backwards. She knew how to French braid hair so everyday, she would braid girl's hair during recess. At lunch, her mum would pack her a magnificent lunch that she would share with those around her. She even gave Harry some gummy bears one day.

Not only that, she seemed one hundred percent Dudley-proof. No matter how much he glared at her, cracked his knuckles at her, or tried to trip her in the hall, she always seemed not to even notice. And if there were anything Dudley hated more than his sad excuse of a cousin, it was when people ignored him.

Harry seemed dazed as Aunt Petunia grabbed the fork out of his hand and pulled his plate of food away. He was still out of it when he saw his Uncle's great purple face yell at him, pointing his finger at his cupboard. As if sleepwalking, Harry trudged off to his cupboard, to caught up over the new girl to even notice his relative's daily resentment toward him.

Harry dreamed endlessly that night. One dream contained him and Danielle together riding an Elephant on the playground while Dudley ran away with fear. Danielle would turn around and give him that sweet smile, her eyes illuminating.

And Harry was so comfortable in his dream, he wouldn't have even minded if he never woke up again…..

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Author's Note: I'm sorry it's a little short. I'll make the next one longer, promise. My midterms start tomorrow and I need to go over a couple things for Pre-Calc (gags).

Harry's life is starting to look up. Sadly, it isn't going to stay that way for long (dodges tomatoes). This whole story does have an overall plot. It deals with how Harry transforms overtime from that shy, little boy to a more confident, brave Harry who one day saves a world he doesn't even know about yet. Sadly, there are some hard bumps in the road.

In case you were wondering, all the children in the story are the names of my cousins. That's why there are two Franks right now (I actually have three cousins named Frank, though). My cousin Mark actually said he wanted to be a garbage man when he grows up (I don't understand him much). I have a rather big Greek family so some of the names were altered so that Harry and Dudley aren't in a huge class full of about 50 Franks, Georges, Christinas, Katherines, and Nicks. : )

Some of the stories here are actual events that happened in my life. Some things were made up (Harry's head getting stuffed in the sandbox or being forced to walk to school). My little brother actually threw a plastic container at my head. I had to get butterfly stitches when I was four. I still have a very faint scar right by my eye.

I know that this story hasn't gotten a lot of reviews yet but I'm not too upset. I least they are all nice comments (no negative ones (yet : ( …))! I just want to say thanks for everyone who has reviewed already. I will never finish this story without them.

Take care everyone!

Next Chapter: Harry's class has their annual picnic. Will everything go as planned? Of course not! Not only will everything go wrong, Harry shows off his earliest bursts of accidental magic… (oooh fun…)!

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	5. The Annual Picnic

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

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Author's Notes: Thank god I'm done with my semester exams! They were really time consuming and hard. What's worse, my swim coach scheduled a meet for after school Friday, the last day of exams. The timing system wasn't functioning right and it took forever to go through the meet. When I swam my last event, it was already 9 p.m. : (

It's a good thing it wasn't a school night or I would have just left.

Once again, this chapter may be a little shorter than the earlier ones but I tried my best. Thanks a ton for the reviews and keep them coming!

Last Time:  A new girl comes to school and Harry hasn't been any happier. Sadly, his happiness won't last for long…. Duh duh dun!

Onto the Story…!

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**Chapter Five: The Annual Picnic**

As the days until the annual picnic dwindled down, Harry's life was at an all time high. With the Dursleys out of his hair for a large chunk of the day, a big class full of kids who welcomed him in as one of their own, and a new friend who shared his exact interests, he felt diverged from his past, almost like being reborn into a new life where didn't have to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs...

Sure he didn't look any different than before. His overlarge clothes still burdened him greatly while his taped up glasses were slightly crooked on his nose. He wasn't sure if he grew a great deal, even if he did at all.

What changed was not noticeable on his exterior self, but inside himself as a person. When compared to the past summer, Harry felt so much better than before. He found that his cheeks ached because of his constant smiling. The muscles used to shape his genuine grin were tight from never having to be used up to then.

One of the biggest reasons why he smiled so often now was the newest addition to the class. Danielle was like a prayer being answered from up above. She was the comforting hand to hold during a thunderstorm, the ear who would listen when talking of fears and deception. Harry himself thought she was the wings that allowed him to fly far away from the Dursleys, the strength to fly away and never look back.

If someone were to guess which kid in the class was the newest there, the last person they would have guessed is Danielle. The way she interacts with her classmates, one would have thought they were friends from birth.

It also seems as if Dudley called it quits. It took him a good deal of time to realize that his attempts of payback of either Harry or Danielle were futile. His door slamming has been reduced considerably, something Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were relieved of greatly.

Dudley was basically the only rock in the stream of the class, always trying to go against the flow. Except now, his once boulder-like status shrunk to one of a small pebble. The earlier fears of Dudley punching the daylights out of his victims now turned into a constant ignoring. Seeing how the future sumo-wrestler couldn't do anything under the now constant hawk eyes of the teachers, there was nothing to worry about.

The only one who still was apprehensive of Dudley (apart from FT who still kept a good ten feet between themselves) was his cousin, Harry. Dudley soaked up his anger and temper like a sponge, holding it in until someone wrung it out of him; this someone usually ending up being that tiny squirt with the odd looking glasses. Once at home and away from his teachers watchful eyes, he would pound the stuffing out of Harry, or at least try to. He would first have to catch his cousin, a mighty feat for a kid who weight rivaled that of a kid twice his age.

Only Harry wasn't too affected from Dudley's punches. As a matter of fact, he was smiling to himself while Dudley tried pulling his hair roughly. He had the one thing his cousin didn't, friends at school who liked him and played with him. And what furies Dudley the most in his life is not being able to take away Harry's friends, his happiness.

And Harry knew that there was nothing to separate himself from his happiness. His friends at school seemed to be extra special nice to him, for they knew that he had to spend a ton of more hours with Dudley then they do. They would sometimes give Harry there extra drawings from art class or extra food at lunch in order to prep him for the long afternoon with Dudley.

But the one person who made Harry one hundred percent immune to Dudley's tactics was Danielle. Just the sound of her name made Harry melt. He really really_ really_ liked Danielle, maybe even more than just a friend...

Harry was sure that Danielle also liked him back. There was only this one time where he was afraid she thought so otherwise.

"What's that?" She asked him once a few days ago. They were swinging on the swings out on the playground.

"What's what?" Harry asked, turning towards her. He skidded to a halt and waited for Danielle to do the same. Once their swings were perpindicular to the ground, Danielle continued.

"There," she said, pointing to his forehead. Harry's hand reached up to were she was pointed. His fingers traveled right over where his scar was. His hair must have been blown away from his face while they swung.

"Oh," he exclaimed, as if suddenly remembering where he put shoes. "I got this a long time ago." He wished she didn't ask more about it, but she did.

"How?" She asked curiously, returning her stare back to Harry's green eyes.

"In a car crash," Harry answered gloomily, his own stare looking towards the ground. "I-I don't really remember it, but my parents died in that crash."

Danielle gave a small gasp as she looked at Harry like she's never done so before. "Oh, I'm really sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have asked." She looked ready to stand up and leave.

"No," Harry called out loudly. His eyes pleaded for her to stay, he didn't want to be alone again. "It's O.K. I don't even remember what they look like…" his voice trailed off.

Danielle took a seat back down on the swing. She glanced at her feet while a prolonged silence lingered between the two.

"So," she started to say, not looking up, "that's why you live with your Aunt and Uncle?" Harry has already told her all she needed to know about the Dursleys.

"And Dudley," Harry reminded her. Danielle looked up at him a smiled.

"And Dudley."

After that discussion, Danielle stayed by Harry's side, not wanting him to be alone. Harry didn't mind at all, in fact, he enjoyed her constant company.

In art class, they found a coloring book in one of the shelves with pictures of animals. The two of them spent the rest of art time coloring inside the lines to the best of their ability. Danielle colored her lion purple (it was her favorite color) while Harry colored his butterfly yellow.

On a rainy day while the class had indoor recess, the two would look through the cage bars at the two love birds. The duo often perched close to each other on their tiny swing. They weren't afraid of humans staring at them or even coming close. Actually, one of the lovebirds always hopped on to the perch closest to Harry when he would come by. It would cock its head side to side, taking in the sight of the much larger creature outside the cage with curiosity. Harry thought that their looks matched those of a begging dog, just dying to be free of their cage. He didn't think they liked being locked up.

Harry was saving up on spare change from his lunch to buy himself an ice cream cone. He had plenty enough to buy one now, but he decided to wait until he had enough for two. That way, he and Danielle could walk back home together, licking their ice cream cones in the mild autumn heat.

The day of the annual picnic came out of nowhere. Harry was surprised that a whole week of school went by so quickly. As his teacher would say though, time flies when you're having fun….

And what fun was he going to have at the picnic! There were tons of games and activities planned out for all the kids. Harry once heard in the halls that they were bringing a monkey, but he wasn't sure how true that was….

On the day of the picnic, Harry was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley when he remembered something.

"Aunt Petunia?" He asked suddenly. His Aunt looked up from her breakfast, putting on her unhappy face.

"What is it, boy?" She asked, her voice meaner that necessary.

"I-I," he tried to explain, "you… you have to…."

"Think before you speak, boy!" Uncle Vernon barked from the other side of the table. Dudley's piggish face turned into a satisfied smirk.

Instead of trying to explain again, Harry pulled out the flier from his corduroys. He wore the same pair from the day he received the note and they haven't been washed since. He handed the flier to Aunt Petunia, he tug it impatiently out of her nephew's hand.

Harry sat anxiously waiting while Aunt Petunia skimmed over the writing. "So?" She asked, putting the paper down.

"Well," Harry stuttered out, his eyes bearing down on his half-full plate. "Everyone has to have a sack lunch for the picnic and…."

Aunt Petunia understood what her nephew was trying to tell her, but Uncle Vernon saw this as an extra opportunity to make Harry miserable. He seized it while he still could.

"Don't you think he's telling us this on a bit of a… short notice, deary?" He asked sweetly across the table at his wife. Aunt Petunia looked ready to disagree, but soon masked it and bore a nasty grin, the same as her husband's.

"If you wanted a packed lunch, boy," she sneered, "you'd had to have asked sooner." Dudley snickered behind his hands.

"But-"

"I don't _care_ what you have to say, boy," she warned, her voice rising. Harry stared at his plate, his confidence not strong enough to look his Aunt in the face.

After a brief silence, Uncle Vernon pushed his plate away. "Oh, well," he started, rising to his feet, "time to go Dudders." He and his large son waddled out of the front door to the car.

Harry stood up, grabbed his yellow book bag, and headed for the door too. Before he reached it though, he got a rather unannounced surprised.

"Wait, Harry!" Aunt Petunia called from the kitchen. Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Aunt Petunia called him by his first name….

….and made him a lunch! Aunt Petunia made a hasted sandwich and threw an apple into a brown paper bag. She handed it to Harry and hushed him out the door. No more words were exchanged between the two.

Harry put his lunch in his backpack before heading down the drive way. He was so out of it that he didn't even notice Dudley's ugly face pressed up against the back window, mocking him. Harry trudged along the path in semi-shock. For once, Aunt Petunia actually did sometime nice to him. His heart lifted slightly at the thought of that.

Maybe she _did_ care….

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Once at school, Harry made sure that he'd stay out of Dudley's way. If his cousin saw his packed lunch, he was sure to make a big deal out of it; and nobody wants to see Dudley throwing one of his signature tantrums.

After everyone put their bags inside the classroom, everyone headed outside towards the playground. The lunches were to be placed in a bucket according to class. Harry waited for Dudley to turn around to slip his into the bucket.

Once outside, Harry saw that all the games and activities were already up and ready to go. The classes of nursery kids were running around the playground, excited to try everything at least five times. Sadly, there was no monkey present...

Harry took a seat at a swing, waiting for a glimpse of Danielle. He was hoping the two of them would make their way around all the games and activities together.

"Why don't you go try a game of kickball over there?" A tall teacher asked as she approached him. Harry was the only one on the swing set.

"That's o.k." he replied, looking around the playground again for any sight of that blond hair and red ribbon. "I'm waiting for my friend. I think she's still putting her lunch away."

"I'm sure your friend is already playing a game now," the teacher said, trying to get Harry to take her hand. "Why don't you go over there and then you could make even more friends."

Harry wanted to argue, but he bit his tongue while the tall older teacher led him to were a group a boys and girls were playing kick ball.

At least Dudley isn't over here, Harry thought as he stood in line to kick. Harry played kick ball once with some other boys from his class. They were all surprised that he didn't know how to play coming in to school, but that was no problem as they explained to game to him briefly before starting.

Unfortunately, Harry didn't go up to kick as his team got three outs before. What happened is that Boo-Boo was up to kick. As the ball was pitched, he ran up and kicked it straight up in the air. Afraid of it hitting him, he ducked down on the ground, the ball landing on his back.

"Out!"

As the two teams switched sides, Harry immediately went to the outfield. He didn't like playing kick ball really.

In the outfield, he noticed that a girl from the other team didn't get up and head over to the long line of kickers. Instead, she kept her head bowed, her eyes searching through the grass. As Harry arouched her, he noticed the red ribbon tied in her hair.

"Danielle?" He asked as he walked towards her. "Did you lose something?"

"Wha'?" She asked incoherently, some of her hair in her mouth. She looked up at Harry, her face forming a smile.

"I-I just asked if you lost something…." Harry replied, he felt his face turn slightly red. Danielle's smile just grew wider.

"No, silly," she exclaimed, "I'm looking for four-leaf-clovers." Harry looked down at the grass. Indeed, they were standing in a big patch of clovers.

"Can I help?" Harry asked shyly, pointing at himself. He crouched down on all fours, looking through the grass.

"Of course you can, Harry!" She assured him. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Oblivious to the game, the two of them spent a long time searching through the patch for some four leaf clovers. Danielle wasn't in much luck, she only found about two. Harry surprised himself by finding over ten four leaf clovers.

"How do you do that?" She asked as he pocketed number eleven. "How do you find them so easily?"

"I-I don't know," he replied, a small blush forming on his cheeks. "I just do."

"I bet it's the glasses," she teased. Harry took off his glasses and handed them to Danielle. She tried them on, only to take them off a few seconds later.

"Whoa," she exclaimed. "What are you, blind?" She giggled to herself as she handed the glasses back to her friend. It took Harry a few moments to realize she was joking. He had felt a little hurt by her comment at first.

"Hey!" Another kid called over at them. The teams were switching sides again. "Are you playing or what?"

"No," Danielle called back to him before Harry could. "We're just picking clovers out here!" One of the teachers watching the game of kick ball heard her and came over to the two of them.

"Uh oh," Danielle exclaimed softly. "What? Did I say something wrong?" The teacher didn't look too happy; his face reminded Harry a lot of Uncle Vernon's. He gulped nervously.

"Picking clovers isn't one of the activities at our annual picnic," the male teacher explained to the two. "Either get up and do something productive or you'll be in time out!"

"O.K." Danielle said timidly. It was the only time Harry ever heard her slightly scared. She turned back to him once the male teacher stalked away to yell at some other kids.

"Do you know who that is?" She asked him incurably. Harry shook his head honestly. Never in his life has he met that teacher.

"I know some other girls that are in his class," she told him in a hushed voice. The male teacher had just turned to look back at the two.

"What-what's his name?" Harry asked, trying to hide behind Danielle to stay out of the teacher's line of sight.

"He's Mr. Thoma," she said gravely. "I heard that he doesn't allow nap time and that he makes you sit in the corner if you color inside the lines." Harry gulped again.

"I'm glad we don't have him as our teacher," he exclaimed, thinking about the nice, kind face of Ms. McKenna.

"Yeah, I know."

The pair decided to do as Mr. Thoma ordered and walked over to join the over kids in their activities. They went to the station with the spaghetti noodle art. There, they met up with Che, Carol, Mark, and about ten other kids Harry didn't know.

At this station, there was a large assortment of colored noodles spread out over the picnic table. It was their job to use the different colors and shapes of noodles, paste them to a piece of paper, or make a necklace out of them.

"This isn't so bad," Danielle said after a good five minutes in. She had already made a necklace and went on to make a matching bracelet. Harry nodded his head in agreement. He was almost done gluing on the pieces of noodles. They were taking the shape of what distantly looked like a butterfly.

Mark, who was sitting across the table from them, was currently chewing on the left over pieces of noodles. Disgustingly, some of the pieces were coated with partially dried glue.

"Oh no," Danielle exclaimed getting everyone's attention at the table. "It's _him_, Mr. Thoma!" Apparently, some of the other children have heard of Mr. Thoma's evil teachings. The girls gasped and stared, one of them ducking under the table. The boys scooted away nervously; Mark looked like he swallowed a rock.

Mr. Thoma walked by, giving a small glance at the table of petrified five-year-olds. When he was out of hearing range, everyone gave a loud collective sigh before returning to their work.

Suddenly, Mark got up from the table and made a dash towards the trash can. His effort was unsuccessful as he doubled over and painfully emptied his stomach. Apparently, the glue-covered noodles didn't settle well with Mark at all as he gave another great heave.

All the girls shrieked and ran the other way. Harry lingered long enough to see Ms. McKenna rush towards Mark from the other side of the playground. She helped Mark up as they made their way inside, doubtlessly to the nurse's office.

"Poor Mark," Harry heard Che say sadly to Carol obviously. The other teachers pulled the children back from the mess and told them to go on their separate ways. Harry and Danielle got separated again. The annual picnic continued on.

Soon afterwards, while Harry was jump roping with FT, he saw a janitor come out and clean the mess. Still, Mark was nowhere to been seen.

"Do you think he's sick enough to have to go home?" Harry asked FT as the two of them swung the opposite ends of the rope around in unison for some girls to jump.

"I hope not," FT relied. "He'll miss lunch soon." Harry was pretty sure that Mark wasn't up to lunch at the moment.

For lunch, the tables were cleared off as clothes replaced scraps. There was a large group of kids herding around the lunch buckets, trying to find their sack. Harry soon remembered Aunt Petunia's attempt of making his lunch and relieved the short happiness it brought to him.

His stomach growled loudly. All of his running around had made him hungry as he looked around for Danielle. Assuming that she was at an all girls table, Harry decided to take a seat at a table with his other classmates.

The others all opened their lunches and started swapping food around like they always do. Harry recalled that he was packed a rushed sandwich and an apple. He wondered if anybody would like to trade their snacks for his apple….

When he poured his lunch out onto the table though, the expected sandwich and apple didn't roll out. Instead, a nice ham and cheese sandwich, and package of fruit snacks, a juice box, and a bag of gummy bears came out.

"Whoa Harry!" one of the boys exclaimed loudly, catching other's attention. "You should pack your lunch more often!" The kids all asked to trade, but Harry just stared down at his lunch. Now how did _that_ happen…?

Figuring that Aunt Petunia had a very sudden change of heart started eating his sandwich. What unnerved him slightly was that the ham and cheese was on wheat bread. Aunt Petunia always bought white bread at the store.

Dudley soon heard all the commotion and marched his way over. He parted through two classmates to make enough room for his oversized bottom. Upon seeing his cousin's lunch, his sneering eyes turned to shock.

"Hey!" he said loudly, pointing at Harry. "How did you get a lunch?" Harry put down his sandwich to tell his cousin.

"Aunt Petunia made me one right when you left," he said calmly. It was the truth after all….

But Dudley didn't believe him. Instead, he went to find the closest teacher by, which so happened to be Mr. Thoma.

"Mr. Thoma! Mr. Thoma!" Dudley squealed out, grabbing everyone's attention. "Harry _stole_ someone's lunch!"

"N-no I d-didn't," Harry tried to say to defend himself. He rose to his feet, to sort this out with the teacher. The whole table was watching the three of them.

"Mr. Thoma," Dudley accused, "_he_ stole someone's lunch! I know he did!"

"And how do you know that," Mr. Thoma asked cheekly, his dark eyes peering down at Dudley.

"Because my mum didn't make-" he started before biting his tongue, "because he_forgot_ his at home! He told me on the way here!"

"No, I didn't," Harry tried to say, but only a few incoherent syllables came out. He tried to look at his classmates for help. Over at the next table, he saw Danielle glaring at him, her opened lunch box containing a very familiar looking sandwich and apple.

"That's _my_ lunch," Danielle said, rising to her feet. She stared at Harry as if unable to believe what she was seeing. "That's _my_ sandwich and those are _my_ gummy bears. You _stole_ them!"

"N-no," Harry tried to explain. "I didn't steal your food! I-"

"That's enough out of you, young man!" came Ms. McKenna's harsh voice. "I want you and Danielle to follow me. Everyone else, get back to your lunch." She grabbed Harry's wrist tightly with one hand while Danielle followed at her heels. Harry tried to look back at his friends, only to see their jeering stares.

She brought the two back to her classroom in silence. Hot tears were threatening to fall out of Harry's eyes. He tried desperately to hold them back. Everything just needs to be sorted out, he told himself.

Danielle didn't even contain herself. Tear tracks littered her face as she didn't even try looking at Harry. Her silent tears soon became quite sobs, which grew louder and louder.

"Ms. McKenna!" She nearly shrieked once they got to their classroom. "I don't like this school. I want to go home. I wanna go home!"

"Shhhh…." The teacher sighed as Danielle tightened her grip on Ms. McKenna's leg. Danielle kept bawling her head off, which shocked Harry greatly. She had seemed to be a very controlled, collective girl for her age, and now she was acting like a two year old.

"No one here likes me anymore!" She wailed. "I don't want to go to school here! I wanna go home! I wanna go home right now!"

Ms. McKenna kept trying to calm the sobbing girl down. "Shhhh…. It'll be alright. I'll call your parents and se if they'll pick you up."

As soon as she said this, Danielle seemed to calm down a bit. Her face was red and her hair messy. The red ribbon in her hair was threatening to fall out at any moment.

"Ms. McKenna," another teacher appeared at the door with Mark at her heels. He looked slightly green in the face. "Mark here need to go home. He's not feeling much better. Where are his things?"

"Right here," Ms. McKenna answered, reaching out towards the cubby area. She grabbed Mark's coat and bag and headed towards the door.

"Come with me, Danielle," she called half way out the door. Danielle exited with the three others, wiping her face clean of tears. Ms. McKenna then addressed Harry. "I'll be back in about ten minutes then we'll talk about your punishment. Don't go anywhere." With that said, the door closed, leaving Harry with no one but himself.

Harry felt more alone than ever before. Now that he had a taste of what having friends and fitting in was like, the dark loneliness was as painful as ever.

He now wished with all of his heart that he was free from this school. Free of the Dursleys. Free from this life. Free.

"I want out..." he sobbed softly, burring his face in his hands. He wished for a pair a strong arms to pick him up and carry him away to somewhere, anywhere that didn't contain this pain.

"I want out!"

A soft clink caught Harry's attention as he looked around for the source of the sound. The brilliant trilling of the lovebirds caused Harry to turn to the bird cage, or rather, the now empty bird cage. How on Earth did that happen?

The small door to the cage had somehow opened and the two birds were now perched on the top of the cage. Harry stared at them with wide eyes before noticing the still open window! He froze in his spot, if he moved slowly, he could get the birds back in their cage.

Suddenly, Harry turned back towards the door as he heard footsteps creep closer. Dudley had come through the door, his usual sneer on once he caught sight of Harry.

"Look at what you did," he jeered at cousin. "How much trouble are you in for this one?" Dudley then saw the birds on top of the cage. "What? How did they-?"

He suddenly ran over to the cage, his hands outstretched as if to catch the birds on his own. The two love birds saw what resembled a rhino charge at them so they flew away, frightened.

Just as Harry yelled 'no,' the two love birds flew up and around in the air before taking off right out of the open window.

Both Harry and Dudley ran to the window sill and watched as the two birds took off towards the trees on the edge of the school property. Both were shocked as they stared out in the small forest. Harry stifled twice.

"Now what am I gonna do about-" came Ms. McKenna's voice as she entered the room. She never finished her sentence as she gasped loudly at the sight of Harry and Dudley by the open window and the empty bird cage.

All three were oblivious of the single red ribbon lying on the ground….

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Author's Note: I hope this chapter wasn't too boring or anything. It took forever to write as my brain and my hands seemed to be working in opposite directions here.

So now Danielle is basically out of the story. She's not the last of Harry's friends. He'll make more but for now, he's gonna get a bit of the silent treatment.

This was the first of many bumps in the road. It will get better for Harry, but first it's gonna get a little more ugly (sorry Harry).

I want to thank everyone for reviewing for this story so far. I know that my number of reviews is single digit but I'm not complaining. There are some stories out there that have no reviews.

I really enjoy writing this story and I'm sure I'll finish it, no matter how long it takes. It may not be too long right now, but eventually, it'll be 100k . If it's about 20K now with Harry still in his first year of school, we have a long way to go, and more good stories to tell.

The next couple of weekends are going to be hell. I have all of these swim meets, solo and ensemble, our show choir show, our OMEA contests, and our winter homecoming soon. Oh well, who doesn't hate school…..

Just as a reminder, this does has a main plot. It's gonna take a while to get to it but isn't Harry's whole life a big plot?!

Thanks for the reviews and see you next week!

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Next Chapter: **Reasons Why I Hate School**: Harry is blamed for Danielle and the lovebird's sudden departure. Now, his once friendly classmates hate his guts and it seems even his teacher is siding with them. Dudley is also being a larger prick than normal just for the occasion.

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	6. Reasons Why I Hate School

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

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Author's Notes: _I'm really really really sorry that this chapter is really short_. This past week has had its ups but far too many downs. My grandpa is in the hospital from a stroke, my teachers don't even seem to care when I tell them I couldn't do my homework because of it, and my mom is agreeing to have me switch club teams without telling me (isn't that great)!

Onto some better news….

OMG! At OCC Swim Championships, I got 4th in the 200 freestyle and 6th in the 100 breastroke (I think that's pretty good for a sophomore). If I swim those times again at sections, I'll make it to districts for sure.

Not only that, I got all my grades on my exams and I didn't fail any (throws a big party and invites everyone). I only missed one question on my pre-calculus exam (some really easy sine question too, oh well….

This week is going to be a long one and I caught a bit of a cold. : ( I have to prepare for a piano and violin competition for school but I don't have any swim meets which means I'll have more time to write. ( :

I started typing this chapter up yesterday and worked on it until midnight. I had two and a half hour swim practice before and just about died on the distance free set (those who don't know anything about swimming, that's o.k. : )

Please leave a nice long review and I'll give you a cookie or something!

Last Time:  Harry managed to free the love birds from their cage and lose a dear friend all in the course of ten minutes.

Onto the Story…!

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**Chapter Six: Reasons Why I Hate School**

Harry was dreaming. He was wandering away on the rainbow carpet that was usually centered in Ms. McKenna's classroom. Only now, it was up in the air miles away from Little Whinging.

He floated away without thought, his mind drifting far off into the undiscovered corners of the universe where no one has ever dared traveling to. His arms and legs felt heavy, but it was a comfortable, hazy feeling that one usually had on the verge of sleep. Speaking of sleep, his tired eyes drooped as the carpet gained altitude up and away….

Only when his mind finally sublimed to sleep, his eyes opened to the real conscious world. Like every day, the drafty ceiling of the cupboard greeted him good morning. With his mind still dazed, Harry sat up and pulled the string to light up the small enclosed space.

'That's strange', he thought wearily. He hadn't had a dream of him flying away from the Dursleys somehow since the start of school. He supposed they had stopped for good once his life started to look promising. He reached over, grabbed his glasses, and placed them squarely on his face.

It was then Harry noticed the thin red ribbon clutched in his hand. 'Even stranger,' he thought to himself, 'why do I have Danielle's ribbon?'

And _then_ that's when it all came back to him. The annual picnic. The mess up at lunch. Danielle crying her eyes out. The love birds flying out the window. The single red ribbon lying on the floor….

Harry scrunched up the ribbon in his fist as silent sobs shook his whole body. He vividly remembered Danielle's stunned yet bitterly accusing stare at him when she thought he stole her lunch. He also remembered Dudley pointing his big, fat finger at him, blaming him for the two bird's sudden departure.

Dudley had of course said that it was all his cousin's fault the birds escaped. Apparently, Harry had unlocked the door to the cage deliberately to try to get Dudders in trouble. Harry of course tried to tell Ms. McKenna what really happened, but she turned the other cheek on him. He had this strange feeling in his stomach that his teacher didn't like him anymore.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had of course received word of what happened the night before. Aunt Petunia looked upon hearing of the lost love birds; they were rather expensive birds. She muttered a few incoherent mumbles about a pet store before returning to her meal. Uncle Vernon however seemed too angry to enjoy his dinner when he heard of his nephew stealing food at lunch from a girl.

"I told you, boy," he threatened over the dinner table the previous night. He had swiped Harry's plate of food and handed it over to Dudley. "I told you that you were too lazy to ask in advance for us to make you one. What's worse, you were too lazy to make one for yourself. Instead, you had to go steal one from an innocent girl. You thief! Do you know what they do to thieves, boy?"

"N-no, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied timidly. He really had no idea what happened to thieves. He looked over at Aunt Petunia to see if she would admit to her 'sin' of packing her nephew a lunch for school. Only, his aunt seemed to be avoiding everyone's eyes, her own peering down at her dinner blankly.

"They lock them up in jail for a very long time, sometimes forever," Uncle Vernon then changed from lecture mode to evil-pick-on-Harry mode. "You don't want to be locked up in prison forever, now do you, boy?"

"But I didn't steal anything," Harry tried to explain. Uncle Vernon gave a short husky laugh before rounding on the others present at the table.

"Did you hear that, Dudders?" He asked his pudgy son. Dudley's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, it was now his turn to ridicule Harry. Aunt Petunia still didn't make eye contact with anyone, let alone Harry.

"But the lunches were swapped somehow," Harry tried to make his family understand. "It was like magic."

Aunt Petunia chocked loudly on her food while Uncle Vernon turned purple in the face. Harry looked up at them in confusion, did he say something wrong? Uncle Vernon was the first to regain his composure since Aunt Petunia was still trying to dislodge the food from her windpipe. Dudley was pounding his mother on the back so hard, she would have fallen over in the table weren't there.

"There is no such thing as magic, boy!" He snarled at Harry. "Stop making excuses, or I'll do worse to you than being in jail forever…." Harry gulped loudly, believing his uncle's threat. It wouldn't have been the first time he was hit before.

Harry knew that the only thing stopping his Uncle from pounding him into the ground or locking him in his cupboard for days on end was school. This made Harry relieved, but also scared him. He knew that winter break was coming up soon and the Uncle Vernon is in need of a good punching bag….

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"I don't want to go back to school."

This was the first thing that came out of Harry's mouth at breakfast once Dudley and Uncle Vernon departed for the car. Only Harry and Aunt Petunia remained in the kitchen. He was just waiting to receive his daily amount of lunch money.

"Too bad," she replied harshly. "You are going to school. It's either that, or being stuck in your room all day." Aunt Petunia never said the word 'cupboard' to Harry. He suspected that it pained her to do it.

"But everyone is gonna hate me now for the birds flying away," Harry complained to her. He wished she would show at least some compassion towards him.

Instead, she closed her purse and handed her nephew some change. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you opened their cage."

"But I didn't," Harry explained in a whisper. "The cage somehow opened by itself. I didn't even see how or who. You believe me, don't you? Please?"

Aunt Petunia seemed to think about it for a long minute. She walked to the sink to start the dishes, hoping Harry would take the hint and leave.

"Aunt Petunia?" He asked again. "You bel-"

"I don't know what to believe, alright!?" She practically belted out. Her sudden shout out quieted down as she retreated into her shell. "Hurry up or you'll be late to school." With that said she turned her attention back to the dishes before picking up a wet rag and starting to work.

Harry sighed loudly as he exiting the house and started the long walk to school. Maybe Aunt Petunia's previous affections for him the other day were also a hoax.

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Saying that his class would all hate him was an understatement. It seemed like all the five-year-olds at the school were out to get him. Not only were they mad at him for freeing the class pets, no….

….Danielle didn't return to school because of him.

Ms. McKenna announced it that day. First, she told the class the news. Then, the class spread the news to everyone they knew plus their next door neighbor.

"Everyone, listen up," she called out to catch everyone's attention. Two dozen heads turned to their teacher with eager eyes. They all had noticed that Danielle had a rather suspicious absence from school that day.

"Our fellow classmate, Danielle," she started with a thick voice. Harry was sure she was very sad indeed for losing her love birds. "Danielle decided to not take part in a public school. Instead, she wants to be home schooled by tutors and teachers."

"But why?" Che asked in oblivious shock. A good two thirds of the class looked over at Harry, all of their death glares matching down to the malicious sparkle in their eyes.

"Well," Ms. McKenna tried to explain, "because of some ill-fortunate events yesterday, she decided to leave." Dudley gave a loud cough. The class fell silent. The brief pause was broken when FT raised his hand.

"Yes Frank?"

"What's home schooling?" He asked curiously. Ms. McKenna sighed greatly before beginning to explain to the class the concept of home schooling. Harry however wasn't paying any attention. He just kept his eyes glued on the now empty seat next to him.

He wondered what he and Danielle would be doing right now if the fates were altered somehow. He pictured the two of them doodling on paper while the teacher lectured about the odd numbers. Harry would say something funny and Danielle would laugh before giving her genuine smile. The image of her radiating grin only made Harry's heart ache strongly.

If only he could remember that smile forever, he figured silently. Only now, he has the red ribbon to remember her by. It was now tucked away in his pocket so it stays close to him at all times.

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'If only she could see how much they miss her,' Harry thought as he sat on the empty swings on the playground. No one muttered one word to him at all that day. Even Dudley can't find any words to say to his worthless cousin. Harry just told himself that Dudley was far too stupid to say anything intelligent anyways, it made him feel better.

All of his classmates simply ignored him now. 'Now only if I could get Dudley to do that,' he thought gloomily as he drew shapes in the gravel with his feet. He was so short, his toes just brushed against the ground. 'What had gone wrong…?'

Carol and Che were the ones who missed Danielle the most, both figuratively and visually. The two of them both shed more than tears upon hearing the news that their new friend was to never return. No longer do they know someone who could french braid hair so well.

Frank and FT used to play with the love birds with Harry during indoor recess. Now, they don't play with the birds or with Harry. During the next couple indoor recesses, they sat on the carpet depressingly while watching out the window for any sight of a feather.

Mark stayed out of school for the next couple of days. He was still sick from eating the left over pasta and paste from the picnic. Maybe he wouldn't hear what happened and still be friends with Harry.

But like always, Harry's hopes were too high to be possible. Mark returned to school with a scowl on his face that resembled that of a rat. He obviously heard the news first thing coming back.

Nina had been the first to retaliate against Harry. It was during art class when everyone was painting with finger paints, a little kid's specialty. She used to sit with Danielle and Harry at the round table in the back. She hated having to sit alone with Harry so much, she resulted to flicking paint at him with her fingers. Harry tried ignoring her first but soon paint splattered on his glasses. Now fully annoyed with her and the rest of the class, he dipped his hand in the paint and flicked some back.

Only Nina then got the teacher's attention and got Harry in trouble. He had of coursed tried to tell how she started it, his paint covered glasses as evidence, but the rules weren't as fair as they used to be. Harry had to sit in the corner of the room the rest of the class. He could faintly hear Dudley's snickering over his near silent tears.

Even Ms. McKenna seemed to dislike Harry now! She would ignore his hands in class and not take notice when he'd wave hello in the hallways. One day, he spent five minutes trying to catch her attention so that he could get help zipping his jacket up at the end of the day before giving up.

When school was out, Harry would trudge back to Privet Drive, his pace as slow and gloomy as his past days of school. The loose change in his pocket clanged loudly in his pocket one day. He stopped by the ice cream store on the way home, but only look. It was after picturing him and Danielle on the high stools licking ice cream cones that he left.

'Who needs ice cream?' he thought miserably, 'when you've got nobody to share it with?' He decided that a train ticket sounded like a much better thing to save up for….

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The seasons changed all the sudden as the once mild days of fall turned colder and grayer until winter arrived. In contrast to the changing weather outside, the attitude of the class towards Harry didn't change a bit.

Five-year-olds sure knew how to hold a grudge apparently. They still act as if it were yesterday the love birds flew away. The only difference was that his classmates' lack of acknowledgment of him turned into a constant battle of picking on him. Dudley was as ecstatic as ever of course. His thick classmates finally noticed how 'poisonous' Harry is so now they too detest him.

But that didn't mean Dudley could still harm Harry at school easily. The two of them were continuously under surveillance so any signs of crooked behavior were squashed immediately. Even so, Dudley still wasn't fast and agile enough to catch his cousin on the playground. His baby rolls of fat hanging under his chin would jiggle as his jogging feet pounded heavily on the blacktop. It took him weeks of cat and mouse chasing to realize his plan wasn't working. Instead, he needed a diversion. Either that or catching Harry off guard….

….which he was very successful at. There was this one day in the early winter where Harry was hiding at the bottom of the tube slide. Not only was he hiding from Dudley, he was hiding from the frigid cold. Apparently Dudley was so innocently walking by when he noticed someone's feet dangling out the end of the slide. This person had on a pair of old shoes that were once his.

"Hey," he had accused, pointing is wide finger at the stranger in the slide, pointing out the obvious. "Hey! Those are my old shoes! What are you doing with them?"

Harry stayed still and quiet like a deer. He prayed with all his might that either Dudley would either notice Che or Carol on the play ground and go after them or just leave. He couldn't believe his ears when he heard the soft padding of gravel as Dudley retreated. Harry let out the breath he didn't notice he was holding while he eyed his old sneakers admirable. He had them for quite some time. Still, he was proud of Dudley's final acknowledgement of them, he personally never expected his cousin to notice the shoes this soon.

But Dudley was fooled so easily this time. He knew of one person who has his old possessions and that person just so happens to match with his prey: Harry.

Instead of pulling Harry out of the slide by his feet like he would have been expected to do, Dudley decided to have a little more fun. By doing so, he climbed the ladder to the slide and went down it with all the force he could muster, catching his cousin by surprise. Like a pinball, Harry was knocked out of the slide tumbled in the gravel to break his fall. He could hear Dudley's vicious cackle while he tried sitting up. He had gotten some small pieces of gravel in his hair along with in his left ear.

"Ha! Gotcha!" He shouted triumphantly. His loud jeering caught the attention some lingering classmates who also came over to watch.

Everyone seemed to appreciate Dudley a little more these days. The only reason that made since was because they now approved of his victim list. The number one of the list was Harry of course; a common enemy to all.

And every time Dudley would knock him down, Harry would pull himself up from the ground. Again and again, he would pull out some unknown strength to go on another day. He didn't understand why, it would be so much easier to quit.

But maybe it was because he had nothing to lose, therefore nothing to prove or expect. He figured that Dudley's bullying feels good now but he would soon tire of Harry's stoic view. Besides, he has already taken everything his cousin ever wanted.

What's there to take from the boy who has nothing?

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Author's Note: This chapter took a long time to write since it seemed really boring to me, sorry! I promise the next chapter will be the longest yet. I have a lot planned out for it and can't wait to start it.

I didn't have as much time to write this chapter with swimming and homecoming. I ate at a Mexican restaurant before homecoming and I think I got sick from the chicken or something because I ran to the bathroom and threw up right in the middle of the dance. : (

Once this week is over, my life will be much much easier. I promise that the next chapter will be longer and better. I almost dosed off about three times during this one.

Please stick to this story. I pledge not to abandon it ever, unless I die or something (knock on wood). I was brainstorming for this chapter when I came up with the idea of a good epilogue that is slightly an alternate ending.

The epilogue is about Aunt Petunia and Harry having a nice long talk a few days before he leaves for Hogwarts. Since they didn't really patch things up from Harry's childhood much in DH, I decided I'll do it myself. I think it will be a good ended for the story, seeing how the plot will go and everything.

Thank you a lot for the reviews. I may even go into the double digits with this chapter (amazing, I know!). As long as there are more reviews than chapters here, I'll be satisfied (wow that sounds reassuring)….

Thanks for the reviews and see you next week!

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Next Chapter: **Mrs. Figg**: Yay! An actual character from the series makes an appearance as Harry has to go to Mrs. Figg's house for the first time. Fun for Harry, right?

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	7. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

Author's Note:

I'm sorry, I'm too busy to write a chapter this week. I know that I've been falling behind slightly, but I know I'll have more time next weekend. I'll either write a super long 10K word chapter or two 5K chapters.

I'm in the middle of auditions for our school show, Thoroughly Modern Millie. We just had the dancing auditions today but I still need to find a song for tomorrow and a monologue for Thursday!

Also, I was really busy with swimming this weekend and with solo and ensemble contest. I do a lot of stuff this time of year.

I'll try my best to write a nice chapter or two for next week. Please keep reading, I promise I won't abandon the story.

Sorry again,

- AndDon'tCallMeShirley -


	8. Mrs Figg

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

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Author's Notes: _As I promised, I'm posting two chapters this week. This one posted today and the next one will be posted tomorrow. _Last week was a very stressful week. The flu was traveling around the school while auditions for the musical took place. Swimming is still wrapping up and our show choir show is approaching.

I took a class A piece to Solo and Ensemble (music competition) and got a I. It's ranked one to five, one being the best and five being the worst. I was really proud of my score; the class A pieces are rather hard. I also accompanied my friend Laura on her violin solo. She would have gotten a I but she forgot to number the measure her music score for the judges so she got a two (so unfair). Laura, Gary, and I also played in a violin trio and got a I (it was the most ugly Haydn song in existence. I want to gag every time we play it).

Sectionals were this past Saturday and I qualified for the 200 freestyle for districts : ) I was just a little upset because I just missed the qualifying cut for the 100 Breastroke. Oh well, I have two more years of high school swimming to make it. The top 32 from all sectionals go to districts and then the top 24 from the three districts in the state go on to states.

Parts for the musical won't be posted until February 25 at the earliest. I only tried out for the chorus or for some dancing role. This is my first year of theatre, I've done backstage work and played piano in the pit before but I always wanted to perform on the stage.

I actually got time to type up two chapters due to the snow. We had a two hour delay Tuesday and no school today. Yay! So, here it is….

Last Time:  Harry recalls how much he hated school now that his classmates blamed him for causing Danielle to leave school and for freeing the class pets from their cage. Poor Harry!

Onto the Story…!

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**Chapter Seven: Mrs. Figg**

Christmas time is supposed to be the very best time of year, correct?

Surrey wasn't one of the places that received feet of snow every winter. It normally snowed just enough to cover the tall tips of the now dead looking brownish grass.

On this year's Christmas day, however, a good six to eight inches packed the ground and the roads, resulting in school delays and closings. All school children were ecstatic to miss school and spend all day outside building snow men and sledding with their friends.

Harry really didn't know what he liked more, spending a day with the apathetic Dursleys or with his hateful filled classroom.

It's been well over two months since the picnic day disaster and still no one had forgiven Harry. He was hoping that someone would start talking to him sometime by now. If only they all knew how much it hurt to be picked last for teams on kickball.

FT was the first person who Harry expected to forgive him. They had a lot in common actually. Dudley was a common enemy and a boogeyman to both. Instead, the sandy-haired boy avoided Harry just as much as Dudley, as if expecting the small boy to push his head into the sandbox.

Carol and Che would have forgiven him easily, being girls and all. But they were good friends with Danielle still hated Harry for what he's done.

Frank often expressed his feeling for Harry with his fists. He was always the kid who acted tough, but was made of marshmallow. But even marshmallows can hurt someone as tiny and underweight as Harry.

Mark, the closest guy he had to a friend, treated Harry just like everyone else. Only, he had tried once or twice to offer his licorice sticks to Harry at lunch, only to stop due to everyone else's traitorous glares.

Nina, the quieter of the girls, hasn't said anything to Harry since. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Uncle Vernon had offered Ms. McKenna to buy the class a new pet at his expense. Upon telling the class, rumors of what type of animal spread like wildfire. Scott didn't stop telling other classmates on the playground that Mr. Dursley was going to buy them a string ray.

"Who wants a sting ray anyways?" asked a short blonde girl from the class next door. "What if they sting you? Would you die?"

"Of course not!" Scott exclaimed. "Only fish like jelly fish sting you."

"No they don't!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!

_"Do not!"_

_"Do __too__!"_

Scott wasn't the only kid who imagined an exotic pet inhabiting their classroom. Nina of all people was the one who was so convinced that Mr. Dursley was going to buy a monkey that she got her mother to buy some bananas at the store and packed them in her lunch.

Dudley was the only kid on the block who really knew what his father was planning on buying, and he wasn't telling. Half of the recess time was spent with kids trying to get the oversized blimp-like kid to spill. Frank even offered his chocolate pudding snack at lunch. Dudley still wouldn't tell anyone, enjoying all the attention. Harry did notice him eyeing Frank's pudding snacks at lunch the next day though.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. A new routine took over Harry's life as he went to school and came back with the same amount of detest.

It was the last of day of school before winter break when something out of the ordinary took place, much to the annoyance to those in Little Whinging.

Harry was walking back home from school like he did everyday. What was different was when he got to Number Four, he didn't Uncle Vernon's mini van parked in the drive like it always does.

'I didn't beat them home, did I?' was what Harry thought at first. He looked up and down the street for any sign of the blue car. He then walked down to the end of the block and looked down the next street, Wisteria Walk, when he spotted it.

Uncle Vernon's mini van was parked sideways. The back bumper was sticking out in the street while the front looked smaller, as if squished.

And squished it was indeed. The front bumper of the bar was crunched and dented. Next to the slightly demolished car was a mailbox. But instead of it being perpendicular to the ground, it was lying face down in the snow.

Wondering what happened, Harry's slow trot towards the car soon turned into a fast sprint as he ran off to find Uncle Vernon and Dudley. Images of a bloodied Dudley with his arm twisted funnily and an unmoving Uncle Vernon unnerved him.

But instead, he found the two standing at the porch of the house who owned the once wholesome mailbox. Uncle Vernon's hat was in his hands while he twisted it round and round as he discussed matters with the person at the door. Dudley looked bored as he sat on the front steps, drawing figures in the snow.

"-terribly sorry… you see, Dudders and I were just on our way home from school when we drove over an icy part of the road. I sort of lost control of the car and we swerved right into your mailbox…" Harry heard Uncle Vernon explain to the person at the door.

"It was a really frightening experience, wasn't it son?" Dudley turned around upon hearing his name, putting on a dramatic face.

"I-It was so unreal," he exhaustingly, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. "I thought we were goners! I thought I was gonna _die_…!"

"Oh you poor little dear," came the soft voice of the woman at the door. She held out her arms to him as his took his cue and ran into her embrace, heaving fake sobs of fear.

"I'll, of course, take care of the charges and damage," Uncle Vernon continued very businesslike. "I'll make sure you'll get a new mailbox and-"

"Oh no, deary," the older woman said. "It was an accident. You will already have to pay lots to fix the car. I can manage the mailbox; I don't receive mail through it much anyways…."

"no really, I must concur…"

"Don't worry about it, Vernon," she told him. "Just get Dustin-"

"Dudley," Dudley interjected automatically before continuing to bawl into the elder woman's apron.

"-Dudley home safely," she corrected. "I still think he looks a little peaky."

It was then when the woman noticed Harry at the end of the walkway. "Why hello there!"

Harry stiffened as he joined his uncle and cousin at the doorstep. The older woman was quite a sight to see, with her tartan carpet slippers and checkered apron. Through the slightly opened door, Harry could smell the odor of cat litter.

"There's no need to be shy, Harry," she said gently. "I'm Mrs. Figg. Were you also in the car with your cousin?"

Before Harry opened his mouth to say no, Uncle Vernon stuttered out, "yes, of course he was, he just was too shy to- to- to come up to the house with us." He looked awfully flustered. Uncle Vernon hated it when people noticed the unfair treatment he has for the two boys.

"He screamed like a girl," Dudley added with a malicious grin before burrowing his face back into Mrs. Figg's apron, his shoulders heaving.

"I'm sure Harry wasn't the only one scared, Dewey-"

"Dudley!"

"-Dudley," she corrected again with a sigh. "I'm just glad you're all alright."

"Then I think it's about time we headed home," Uncle Vernon said hastily, checking his watch. "How's that sound, boys?" He asked uncharacteristically.

"Yay!" Dudley cheered as he let go of Mrs. Figg and tore off towards the car. Harry started after him, looking back every couple steps as if wondering if Uncle Vernon would stop him before he got any closer to his now wrecked car.

"At least let me dispose the mail box for you," Uncle Vernon offered politely, placing his hat back onto his fat head. "It's the least I can do."

"That would be lovely, Vernon," Mrs. Figg said. "What two lovely boys you have. If you ever need a babysitter, I'm more than happy to help."

"Are you?" Uncle Vernon asked. "Why, thank you, I'll give you a call sometime then, good day."

"Take care," Mrs. Figg said before closing the door, muttering words to herself under her breath.

Uncle Vernon loaded the mailbox into the back compartment of the van before carefully backing out and heading home. Dudley was very pleased with himself, catching the old lady's affections to avoid trouble; he's his father's son alright. Harry was just confused altogether. Who was Mrs. Figg and how did she know his name?

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Harry was dreaming.

It was Christmas day and he was sitting in his mother's lap with she rocked in the rocking chair. A magnificent tree was illuminated in front of them while presents littered the floor before it.

"Harry first Christmas, Harry," came his mother's soothing voice as she ran a hand through his baby thin black hair.

Harry tried to crawl out of his mother's grasp and toward the stack of presents, mostly for him. He was within reach of pulling off one of its ribbons when a set of hands picked him up.

"Not until everyone's here, love," his mother cooed, as she carried him back to the rocking chair.

"Anxious, isn't he?" came the laughing voice of a dark haired male entered. He had on a red sweater with a print of an animal on it. It looked much like a reindeer.

"Not until everyone's here," his mother repeated, this time scolding her husband.

"Aw, where's the fun in that?" the male replied as if scooped Harry up with one arm and swung him around. "How's my little man today?"

"Almost five months old and I could have sworn he was crawling the other day," his mother stated proudly. His father held him close, their noses almost touching.

"That's my boy," he smiled before swinging Harry around like a plane, much to the boys delight.

"Maybe this time next year, I'll be teaching you how to fly. How's that sound, Harry?" His mother cleared her throat.

"You can't be serious, dear-"

"She's right, you can't, because I'm Sirius," came a new voice of a handsome man in the door way. "Happy Christmas everyone! Is that my little Pronglet?" He asked, his eyes spotting Harry.

His father put him down to allow Harry crawl over to the dark haired man's feet, soon to be picked up.

"Whoa, he's huge! What have you been feeding h-hi-h-A-Choo" he sneezed loudly into his elbow.

"You're not sick, are you?" Harry's mother asked.

"Either that or I'm allergic to your kid."

"It's nothing too serious, is it?" Harry's mum asked, returning to mother-mode. The handsome man opened his mouth to reply- "and don't say anything funny that has to do with your name. Do you have any clue how old those jokes are?"

"Gosh, I love you too, Lils," the man exclaimed, "and no, it's nothing –_serious_!" He giggled to himself for a moment while the woman before him rolled her eyes. "Just the sniff-sniff-ahs-A-CHOO!" He sneezed again. "The snuffles."

"Don't you mean sniffles?" Harry's father asked.

"That's what I said."

"If you say so," Harry's dad teased slightly.

"Hello? Is anyone home" came another new voice. A ragged man came into the room, polite enough to remove his coat and shoes. His face was still young, yet slightly scarred. His light brown hair was dull and slightly grey at the roots. 

"Moony! Moony, good boy, it's been too long," Harry's father exclaimed as he approached his long term friend to shake his hand, but deciding to give him a hug instead. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," the slightly graying man said exhaustingly. "I know the full moon was just two nights ago but I wouldn't miss this for the world. Harry's first Christmas… wow, how time flies…."

"Have you heard anything from Peter later," Harry's mother asked. The man shook his head.

"Last time I owled him, he said his mother is really sick and needs care, but that was a week ago." Moony looked up at everyone nervously. "You don't think-?"

"I'm sure Pete's fine," the handsome dark haired man exclaimed quickly, not wanting to ruin the already happy Christmas spirit. "I wouldn't be surprised if he got lost again on his way here."

A long silence drifted over the group. "Then-then should we start opening gifts?" Harry's mother asked, causing all three men in the room to crack smiles, the awkward pause long forgotten.

"Harry gets to open mine first," the handsome man called out, searching for his gift under the tree. "Now where did I put that thing…?"

"Now, that's no fair, Padfoot," the graying man complained. "You always get to go first."

"Yeah, because I always call dibs first."

"Not on Lily-flower you didn't, Prongs did," Moony explained before clamping his mouth shut with his hand. "Opps!"

"Is that so," came Harry's mother's voice threatening. She sounded menacing, but Harry still can't make out his parents faces.

"Only because I love you the mostest," Harry's father tried to explain quickly. He laughed nervously before sighing and turning to face his wife.

"Mostest isn't a word," she lectured at him, "but I know what you're trying to say. Your head is just to inflated to let it out in actual English." She leaned over to give him a kiss.

"Hey, not in front of the kid you two," Padfoot exclaimed, keeping one hand in front of Harry's face in the other in front of his own eyes. "You can get all smoochy later, but Pronglet here has been waiting, rather patiently if I may add…."

Harry's parents then sat down on the couch in front of the tree to watch their son open his first Christmas gifts. Padfoot sat Harry in his lap while he instructed him how to rip off the paper.

"Just grab the paper here and pull," he said, helping the small boy unwrap the gift. "Quite the fast learner, this one is," he exclaimed after hearing a satisfying rip of wrapping paper.

Under all the tissue paper and ribbons lied a stuffed plush dog, its fur as dark as night. Harry picked it up in his small hands, a wide smile on his face while baby babbling escaped his lips.

"Aw, it's so cute, Paddy, I almost want one," Harry's mother exclaimed excitingly from the couch.

"What are you going to name it?" Moony asked from where he was sitting in the vacant rocking chair.

"How's about Snuffles?" Harry's dad teased.

"Don't make me go over there."

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

That was all Harry remembered before he woke up on Christmas day, feeling torn between happiness and sadness. He was glad to dream more of his parents, he had spent the last couple of nights thinking of them and praying of a short chance of seeing them in his dreams. It was saddening at the same time; it depressed it to wake up remembering that they died, that he was stuck at the Dursleys.

As much as he hated it, the Dursleys were his family. Perhaps, they were his only family left. He often had to wonder though, did he have any grandparents out there, any other aunts and uncles that weren't named Vernon and Petunia…?

It took Uncle Vernon a couple of days, but he found a good use for the run over mailbox. For being ramming into by a large mini van, it was surprisingly in tact. He decided to give it to his sister, Aunt Marge, for Christmas for her new summer home she was building. She's been writing more often, telling her brother, sister-in-law, and nephew all about this new dog she got, Ripper or something like that….

As for the car, all that damaged was the front bumper, which was easily covered by insurance. Uncle Vernon's drill company let the family borrow a company car for the time while it was in the shop.

Dudley of course made the small crash sound much worse than it really was. He often teased his cousin on how he managed to survive a dramatic head on collision car crash into a mailbox while Harry's parents died as a result of one. His mocking grin was almost punched off his face by Harry, who was so mad, he couldn't speak. Sadly, Dudley was a lot taller than him and by standing on his tipsy-toes, managed to avoid his cousin's angry fists.

It was times like these in which Harry wished he still had school. At least there, Dudley would be prosecuted when making rude comments like that.

Christmas at the Dursleys could have been mistake as any other day of the year. It's not that they didn't celebrate it or anything. Light fixtures of red and green and a green tree covered in tinsel decorated the sitting room. Christmas lights hugged the outside walls of the house and wreaths and candles could be found in every room. Though the decorations and atmosphere of the house may be different, the Dursleys still treated Harry with as much venom and hatred as they always do.

Some things never change.

Dudley sat at the table, his eyes glued on the television screen in the kitchen while he mindlessly ate away at the rather large portion of blueberry pancakes his mother made for him. Uncle Vernon sat at the table, his morning coffee and yesterdays paper in front of him. It saddened him that there was no paper today. Aunt Petunia worked around in the kitchen a little longer before joining her husband and son at the table.

And poor little Harry stayed in the cupboard like he did practically everyday of break so far.

But the Christmas spirit did seem to soak in through the creaks on the door of the cupboard to him. He would often hum 'Silver Belles' under his breath while he straightened his cupboard up, making his cot and taping his art pictures onto the ceiling so that he could see them when lying down. Also, Aunt Petunia would never see when she woke him up in the morning to make breakfast. He found it rather ingenious.

He had also swapped his long dead light bulb with a bulb from on of the lamps in the living room. Now, he could keep the shadows away from him, he found them rather scary.

The night before, Harry had sneaked out for a food rush only to return with some gram crackers and a small tube of icing he found in the back of the pantry, long forgotten. He spent all of Christmas sitting on his cot, coloring and eating the sweet crackers with frosting, this time not alone, but with Snuffles, his newly named stuffed dog.

Snuffles from his dream and from the actual stuffed dog in front of him are one in the same, no doubt. Apart from his slightly faded blanket, the toy was all he had left to remember his family by, his _real_ family.

After his dream, him mind pondered over the other two men with his parents that Christmas. Were they related to his parents?

'Who are they, and where are they now?' Harry asked himself as he turned the stuffed dog in his hands, inspecting every part of it for a clue, an obvious answer. 'If they knew me now, would they love me still…?' Hot tears threatened to fall out of Harry's eyes while he used the back of his hand to wipe them away roughly.

Late at night, when the house was quiet apart from Dudley's loud snoring, Harry held Snuffles close and gave a small prayer to Father Christmas. He wished that no longer how long it took, he would find someone; some unknown relation who knew his parents and could whisk him away on a giant set of wings, never to return to the Dursleys again.

'Until then,' Harry thought, 'I'll just have to stand the Dursleys. It'll be hard, but I've done it before…' a strong euphoria of courage filled his heart.

"And I can do it again," he whispered triumphantly, his eager eyes landing on Snuffles.

Until then...

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Author's Note: I hope this is a good chapter, I wrote it in about two or so hours after swim practice last night.

As for posting the next couple of chapters, things will soon return to their once a week post. After swimming, it will be a lot easier on me. Only three more weeks until then… Yay!

Things will get better for Harry real soon, you'll see. Then, unfortunately, they will get bad again. But then it will get really good and stay good. : )

At the end of this story, I have a couple ideas for an separate Epilogue for this story. One of them has Harry and Aunt Petunia talking about why things played out the way they did. I may also have one with Harry and Sirius talking about the origin of Snuffles and how he had always dreamed of someone to take him away from the Dursleys. Just ideas right now, but I would love to really add them to the story arc.

I know that this chapter was called Mrs. Figg, but you'll get to see more of her in the next chapter.

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Next Chapter: **Summer of 1986**: Harry finishes kindergarten and can't wait for the summer. Around the same time as Dudley's sixth birthday, a new kid moves in. He's not much, just some kid named Piers….

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	9. Summer of 1986

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

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Author's Notes: HAPPY EARLY VALENTINE'S DAY!

I'm going to write a short story for Valentine's Day that will be posted tomorrow. It's a one-shot piece that I hope won't be too corny or anything.

I'm also going to get my temps next Monday or Tuesday and I'm excited. I'm finally fifteen and a half!

Last Time:  Uncle Vernon runs over Mrs. Figg's mailbox with his car while Harry figured out the name of his lovable stuffed doggie.

Onto the Story…!

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**Chapter Eight: Summer of 1986**

The rest of the school year went by really quickly. On one day, Harry would be walking to school in knee deep snow with the hood of his sweatshirt tied so tight around his head that only his nose would be sticking out. The next day, he'd be stripping off his extra layers and trying to avoid rain puddles.

Spring felt short. There was no other way to put it. Most kids were relieved; allergy season came in and out within a fast paced month or two. Others were disappointed, especially girls for some reason. They'd go on and on about flowers and butterflies that caused boys to gag. Stupid cootie infested girls!

Even though time went by, his classmates' attitude towards him didn't change. The newly learned days of the month went by and still Harry was ignored. It hurt still, but it was dull now. He tried not to think about it much.

Dudley was now the big shot of the class. For compensation of the lost love birds Harry 'purposely let escape', Uncle Vernon bought the class a gecko. At first, all the girls squealed in fear of the reptile, but later learned that it was harmless. As for its name, Ginger was chosen for its tannish scales and because it was the girls' pick. Boys were seriously outnumbered in Ms. McKenna's class.

Harry would have liked to join his classmates circle and play with Ginger, but he was always shoved aside. At the end of the day, Ms. McKenna made sure all the kids left the room before she exited as well. Maybe she was afraid of one of her kids (Harry!) taking Ginger home in their pocket.

Ginger was a huge uplift on the children's spirits. Her success also made Dudley one popular five-year-old. It seemed his past demeanors were long forgotten as well. Even so, FT, Dudley's previous number one victim, still was hesitant and jumpy around the baby whale.

And Dudley's new found fame also rendered him able to get away with teasing Harry. Who would tattle on the kid who bought the class pet anyways?

'It could be worse,' Harry reminded himself once during class while Ms. McKenna covered prime and composite numbers. Dudley had just thrown a wet balled up piece of paper at him. It had hit him right in the back of the head and went down his shirt, making him shutter in disgust. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know how it was wet.

'If I were stuck in a cage with a lion who was scraping its claws on the blackboard and singing the national anthem out of tune, it would be worse.' Harry spent the rest of math time wondering how a lion would sound if it could sing.

Some things have improved over time. Harry's once excessive imagination was back on track. He supposed it had to do with his now constant dreams of his parents. He had one at least every night now. Still, he can't see their faces.

Not only that, he no longer sat alone at lunch. Mark was the first and only kid to start treating Harry normally. The way he hangs out with him, you would have thought nothing bad happened.

"Where do you think the trash goes when we throw it away?" He asked Harry one day at lunch. He sat bored with his face in his hands as he watched a group of preppy girls throw away their trash.

"I don't know," Harry answered shortly afterwards. "Maybe there is a river of it under ground which is also fish heaven."

The one thing Harry really liked about Mark was that he too had a rather big imagination. It's all they talked about at lunch: what would the school be like if it were under water and whether or not Ms. McKenna had any distant relatives from Mars.

Harry was a tad bit sad when school ended. He sure wasn't looking forward to a whole summer with Dudley. What was even worse, he didn't have Mark to hang out with anymore. He was going to visit his grandparents in Australia.

"That sounds like fun," Harry had told him. He had felt a tad bit jealous though. Why couldn't he have grandparents who he could go visit, maybe even live with?

"I know, I'll bring you something back," Mark said with a grin. That brought a smile to Harry's face. He couldn't wait to see the look on Dudley's face when Mark gave him an Ostrich egg or something.

On the last day of school, all of the nursery students spent another fun day outside like they did with the picnic. All of the kids got to make s'mores and play hopscotch. At the end of the day, all of the girls cried as they hugged their teacher goodbye. Harry sneaked out unnoticed, he was sure Ms. McKenna wasn't going to miss him.

Since then, June weather consumed him as he spent most of his time lying on the grass in the park, wondering if there was any chance a kangaroo would hop by. It made him crave the zoo more and more.

Dudley's sixth birthday was on the 23rd and he was planning on inviting all of the boys from his previous class to go to the amusement park. He talked loudly about it at every meal. His cue to begin bragging was when Harry sat down opposite to him; then, he wouldn't stop until Harry stood up, cleaned off his plate at the sink, and left.

Harry wasn't too excited about Dudley's birthday. There really weren't any boys in his previous class that talked to him at all. 'Maybe Scott will talk to me; he doesn't like Dudley much anyways.'

But Harry wasn't to attend Dudley's birthday this year. He overheard Aunt Petunia talking on the phone a few days ago.

"-and so you won't mind watching him for a few hours?" pause…. "Yeah, just until we're done with Dudley's party" another pause. Then, Aunt Petunia's face turned sour.

"Why he's not going, too? Well, you see, w-we're going to go eat at a sea food restaurant and sea food makes him sick. He looked green even after we told him our plans," Aunt Petunia explained lamely. Her words sounded unnaturally rushed as they spilled out of her mouth.

When she hung up the phone, she noticed Harry's head poked around the corner. "You're going to spend the day with Mrs. Figg, boy," she told him coldly. "You do remember what house she's at, right?"

Harry had nodded solemnly; he wasn't sure whether or not he was happy about this. He didn't want to miss out on going to the amusement park, but he sure didn't want to go with Dudley. His cousin, on the other hand, seemed even happier to hear that Harry wasn't coming. He had bragged so loudly about his party at dinner that night, it sounded like he was trying to yell at Harry from across a parking lot.

So on Dudley's birthday, Harry head out the door and walked off towards Wisteria Walk just as cars came to the drive to drop the guest off. He wouldn't have been able to find Mrs. Figg's house, though, since all the houses on the streets were identical. Much to his luck, Mrs. Figg still hasn't gotten a mailbox.

Harry reached her house in no time flat. Her grass and flowers out front were well kept and a flag of England flew proudly from a tree. He stood on the porch for a moment while he tried to make sure he was at the right house. Right before his fingers brushed the slick door bell, both the wooden and screen door opened.

"Why, there you are Harry! How are you?" asked the old woman.

"I-I'm fine Mrs. Figg," Harry stuttered out nervously. "I-thanks for letting me come over." He stepped inside.

The odor of cat litter was much stronger once inside Mrs. Figg's house. It was laid out very similar to Number Four, with the stairs to the immediate right and the door to the kitchen right before him. She too had a cupboard, but Harry doubted that anyone had to sleep there.

"Make yourself at home, deary," Mrs. Figg told him cheerily. "I'm just about to start lunch. Why don't you find a good channel on T.V.." She handed Harry her remote and directed him into her sitting room.

Well, Harry was certainly happy he wasn't allergic to cats. Three of them were currently curled on the couch, all of them looking up at him with their big, glowing eyes. It was slightly unnerving.

"They don't bite," Mrs. Figg assured him. "They don't mind strangers much." She counted her cats under her breath. "Now, where did Tibbles run off to? Oh, well. He's probably upstairs under the bed or something."

Harry sat down on an open spot on the couch, watching out for any furry tails. For cats, they were pretty big. He wondered what Mrs. Figg fed them everyday. He sat tense as the cats all continued to stare at him.

As Mrs. Figg left for the kitchen, Harry turned on the T.V. and flipped channels until he found something about the Egyptian pyramids. He smiled softly, never was he able to watch whatever he wanted at the Dursleys.

'Apart from the creepy cats,' Harry thought to himself as he settled back into the squishy couch, 'this isn't so bad.'

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Figg called from the kitchen, "Would you like anything else for lunch? I'm heating up some fish sticks."

"Yes please, Mrs. Figg," Harry called back, now grinning to himself, "fish sticks sound good to me…."

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Harry walked home in the sunset with a full stomach. Mrs. Figg obviously thought he was far too skinny for his age and definitely fed him enough for a week of hibernation in the cupboard.

Her house was like a cat refugee. Cats were everywhere, cat pictures, cat statues, actually living, breathing cats; it was a little freaky. What was also strange was how there was a stack of letters on her counter. He noticed it while they ate lunch. How they got there, he didn't know. Wasn't her mailbox gone? What was also strange was more than once Harry caught the glimpse of something feathery brushing by the window sill. Now maybe that one was his own imagination.

His stay went a lot better than he expected. After eating lunch, Mrs. Figg let him watch T.V. all day while she sat in her rocking chair and sewed.

When Harry got back to Number Four, all of the guests were gone, only to be replaced with a large mess in the kitchen, a mess that a very moody Aunt Petunia was cleaning up.

"Help me, won't you!" She barked at Harry once he entered the kitchen. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were busy picking up the wrapping paper in the sitting room. It was more like Uncle Vernon cleaning while Dudley sat down, a king's smile on his face.

"Now boy!" Aunt Petunia ordered. Harry returned his attention to the kitchen and sighed. This was sure to take forever.

Dudley was the first to head upstairs to bed. He carried all the gifts he could in his fat arms. Harry was sweeping up when he went by, a taunting smirk on his face.

Uncle was the next to head upstairs for the night. He had asked Aunt Petunia whether or not she needed any help in the kitchen. When she answered no, that she had Harry, he kissed her on the cheek goodnight and exited, not sparing one glance to his nephew.

Harry and Aunt Petunia were now alone in the kitchen. Her angry features softened she finished up by wiping now the counter. Harry had put the broom away when she did something unexpected.

"Harry," she said normally, catching his attention. He looked up at her, astonished that she said his name. Aunt Petunia eyes wondered through the empty kitchen for any spying eyes before continuing. "There's some leftover cake in the fridge. You know, if you wanted any…" her voice tapered off.

Harry just stood there dumbly with the broom before a genuine smile reached his lips. "Thank-you, Aunt Petunia."

Aunt Petunia then too headed upstairs to bed. Harry wasn't sure if it were a mirage from the light fixtures or his own powerful imagination, but he could have sworn he saw Aunt Petunia smiling back.

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After treating himself to a slice of chocolate cake, Harry returned to the cupboard, surprised over the day's outcome.

Only, when he got to the cupboard, he noticed a bunch of things out of order. First off, the door was ajar and the light left on. He was sure he turned it off this morning and shut the door.

Upon going into his cupboard, Harry then noticed that his once made bed was messy again and his clothes in the corner thrown all over the place. If he didn't better, it looked like his cupboard had been searched.

'But for what?' he asked himself as he sorted through the mess. 'What do I have that anyone would want?' Maybe Dudley wanted that itchy orange sweater back after all.

Once Harry straightened up his things, he doubled checked the loose change he had as left over lunch money and counted it. It was all there, to much of his surprise. What was missing, though?

It was then that he noticed the absence of his beloved stuffed dog. One of the only things he had left of his parents was missing. The air in his lungs seemed compressed as if Dudley himself was sitting on him…. Dudley!

Harry then crawled back out of his cupboard and charged up the door. Angry tears came to his eyes as he tore open his cousin's door, his chest heaving.

Dudley was sitting on his bed; his newly owned presents surrounding him like a mote. Upon seeing Harry enter, he pushed half his gifts off the bed.

"What do you want?" de asked is his sneeding evil voice.

"Where is he?"

"Who?" Dudley asked rhetorically, enraging Harry even more.

"Where _is_ he?" He demanded once again.

"He? It's a _he_?"

"Yeah, Snuffles! _Where is he_?" Harry practically screamed at his dense cousin.

"What's going on in here?" Aunt Petunia came in with her bath robe on, she spotted her son's teasing face and her nephew's sad yet enraged glare and put two and two together.

"Mum! I don't know what he wants."

"_He_ took my"

"No, I didn't. He just can't find it." Dudley concluded. "He probably _lost_ it." Harry hated how those words just rolled off his cousin's tongue.

"I didn't lose it,_you_ took it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"_Did'n_-"

"Enough!" Aunt Petunia yelled, catching both of the boy's attentions. "Dudley, stop yelling please, I have a headache." Dudley closed his mouth and climbed under his covers.

"But Aunt Petunia! He-"

"If you lost something, _boy_," she said menacingly, all of the earlier civil moments between then two forgot. "If you lost something, why don't you just find it and not blame in on someone else?"

Confused tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he stormed off. He ran back to his cupboard and waited until the house was quite again, hot tears running down his face.

After laying quiet for a boog fifteen minutes, Harry snuck out and felt around the house in the dark for his Snuffles. It was hours laters, half way through the night and well into the morning when he found him behind the toilet in the upstairs bathroom.

He wasn't in one piece, though. One of his front paws was detached but luckily right next to the rest of the body. Still, Harry felt heartbroken.

"I'm sorry, Snuffles," he sobbed as he laid on the cold tile of the bathroom. "I'm so sorry."

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The next morning, Harry woke early and got out of his cupboard. Apathetically, he grabbed an apple from the fridge for breakfast His plan was to eat and get out of the house before anyone else woke up. He wasn't much in the mood to deal with the Dursleys today.

It was when he left the front door that someone else came down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Aunt Petunia asked him right as he was out the door. He didn't he aknowledge her when he answered.

"Outside, I'll be back for dinner." With that said, Harry left to Mrs. Figg's house, Snuffles safely tucked in his pocket.

He went to Mrs. Figg for help. She was probably the only one who could fix Snuffles and that actually would for him. Harry had remembered her sewing yesterday in front of the T.V..

And of course Mrs. Figg was able to do the job. She was more than happy to help Harry out. When he told her how it happened, she was surprised.

"Dudley did this?" she asked in disbelief. "But I thought you two got along well together?"

"No, Dudley hates me," Harry told her solemnly. "I tried to tell Aunt Petunia, but she never believes me. She only listens to Dudley. Hey, Mrs. Figg? You wouldn't mind if I came over now and then would you?"

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, putting down her needle and thread, "as much as I'd love to have you over, I'd only be a bore to you."

"But I can come over and help you garden and stuff. I know have to pull weeds and plant seeds already."

"You don't have to do that deary," Mrs. Figg told him. "You enjoy your summer." She cut and tied the loose thread on Snuffles' arm.

"There you go, good as new," she told him with a gently smile. All feelings of tension left Harry as he took Snuffles from her and held him close.

"I don't want to lose Snuffles," he told her. "He's my best friend in the whole entire world."

"Yes, it would be tragic if you lost him, dear. Hold him close, and he'll be you forever."

Harry thanked Mrs. Figg before heading out, Snuffles safely tucked away. He was so happy to have his friend back that he wouldn't have minded be locked away in the cupboard forever and a day.

When Harry walked up the steps and into the house later that day, he later got bowled over by his lardful cousin, Dudley. Harry stepped away and watched Dudley waddle the fastest he's ever gone before.

"Wait, Dudders!" Aunt Petunia called after him at the door, but he didn't stop. She sighed greatly and headed back in.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked his aunt. "Where is Dudley going?"

"Oh, he's just meeting up with some friends. That one Frank boy called and said that a new family moved in right next door. They apparently have a boy your age, Piers or something like that…."

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Author's Note: I know; it's a little shorter than normal, oh well. Deal with it.

Thanks for all the reviews I've gotten so far for this story. I know I didn't get a ton but I don't mind. As long as someone is still reading it, I'm happy.

Once swimming is done, I may start posting two chapters a week, one for Tuesday and one for Friday or something like that. I want to finish this story sometime before summer. My goal is to get it around 100K words.

I spent about five or so chapters for Harry's first year of school but I may make every year be three of four for now on, that way the story doesn't drag.

Once again, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! I hope you spend it with someone special and all that corny crap! XD

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Next Chapter: Harry and Dudley meet Piers, the new kid on the block. Who is going to be his friend first and how is the other cousin going to take it?

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	10. Piers

Disclaimer: Nope, still not owning it. Gee, thanks for reminding me!

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Author's Notes: I am now moving post days to Friday. Tuesdays are now too complicated with the musical (which I made!) and the show choir show coming up. The parts of the musical were posted and I'm in the chorus (it's all I auditioned for). Oh well, I get to tap a bit I think.

Districts were last weekend and I dropped even more time in the 200 free. Yay! All I have left this season is the senior meet in two weeks. On the bus ride to the meet, we were stuck in traffic due to a car accident. The bus didn't move for a whole hour on the road and some of the girls really had to go to the bathroom. The braver ones actually went in bags and threw them out the window. Gross, I know. One of the bags actually hit a car and burst open. I thought I was going to choke, I was laughing so much.

Our orchestra concert was last night. The one good song we played was the Barber of Seville which sounded cool. Our OMEA contest is tomorrow. Yay!

My little brother is proud that he got honor roll. I usually get really good grades and now we are scheduling classes for next year. I'm planning on taking some AP classes, especially in math and science.

Who reads this stuff on the top anyways? If you actually do, congrats! You win a cookie! ( :

Well then, enough of my blabbering.

Last Time:  Harry is left in the care of Mrs. Figg as Dudley and his friends celebrate his birthday. A new family moved in the neighborhood as well.

Onto the Story…!

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**Chapter Nine: Piers**

According to Dudley, the new family in the neighborhood was all of that and a bag a chips! With a widescreen television, an expresso machine, and karaoke game, who wouldn't be intrigued?

"-and their pet dog, Ruffles, knows tricks!" Dudley shared at the dinner table excitingly. "I wonder if he can talk…?"

"Maybe it can, Duddley-kins," Aunt Petunia said as she continued cutting her meat with a knife.

"Dogs don't know how to talk," Harry told his cousin in a matter-of-fact sort of voice.

"Who asked you?" Dudley interjected. He tried kicking Harry from under the table, but his legs are too short and squat. "_I_ should know after all, I hang out at the Polkiss' _all_ the time…."

Dudley then spent the rest of dinner telling everyone else about the pool in their backyard and how he is going to go swimming in it tomorrow. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia only nodded their heads at every pause, clearly not paying much attention to their son. Harry tried to ignore Dudley as well but he found it hard to do. He's never gone swimming before….

'What am I thinking?' Harry asked himself angrily. 'This is Dudley! He's probably making it up!' Harry then took out his frustration by stabbing his meat venomously, causing Aunt Petunia to call out, "don't play with your food, boy!"

So he sat the rest of dinner with a stoic expression hiding his bubbling hatred towards his cousin. Dudley was the only one not oblivious to Harry's inner turmoil. He smiled triumphantly to himself before starting up another story about how their car seats are heated.

Then again Dudley is the class idiot who thinks two pus two was twenty-two; who knew if anything coming out of his mouth was correct.

But was true was that Dudley did go over to their house everyday. Apparently, there were two boys; Piers, a boy their age, and his older brother Roger. Dudley sure didn't have a lot to say about Roger.

And so the blazing days of summer drug on and on, each day hotter than the previous. Harry was thankful Dudley was actually out of the house everyday; he could now stay inside, his cupboard providing the cool shade from the sticky humid outside.

On the limited number of days where the temperature cooled off, Harry would take long leisure walks around Little Whinging. His favorite time to walk was when a storm front was coming. Just the humid yet cool and hectic breeze would tell him so. Only then, he'd have to head home to avoid the thunder and lightning disappointingly. Lightning was fascinating to him for some reason.

But on one of his days out, he walked by the house where a certain new family was still getting accustomed. A moving van was still parked outside and the garage door was open to reveal a mountain of boxes.

In Harry's opinion, the house looked the exact same as all the rest; brown-bricked and boring beyond belief. The new owners must have thought along the same lines as a red telephone booth was perched out on the grass on the front lawn. Harry counted no less than three little garden gnomes in the flowerbeds and five flamingos. Walking a little to the side to see the back yard, he was surprised to actually see a pool. Aunt Petunia would have been livid.

Before Harry headed back to number four, he watched as two boys, one large and the other rather small, run out through the front door.

"Stop it, Roger!" The younger one screamed girlishly as the larger of the two, Roger, sprayed him wet with his huge water gun.

"Only if you say it," The elder boy demanded his super-soaker shooting water everywhere. "Say it!"

"No!"

"Fine," Roger sighed, "have it your way…." He cornered the younger boy and sprayed him extra hard, laughing menacingly at the same time.

"Okay! Okay! I'll say it," the younger boy surrendered. He took a moment to catch his breath before muttering, "I scream like a girl."

"And act like one," Roger added, refilling his gun with water. He aimed again, but before he could spray, a voice came from inside the house.

"Piers! Roger! Can't you two get along for once! Come in, it's time for dinner. We're having chili a la mode tonight!" The two boys stopped what they were doing and obeyed. Peace and quiet was once again restored the moment the boys entered the house and shut the door close.

Harry left the scene with much to think about; a pool, a telephone booth, and a squirt gun. Dudley didn't quiet exaggerate his tale, the Polkiss' sure were all that. He just wasn't sure about the chip part….

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It wasn't until a couple nights later when anything exciting happened on Privet Drive. Harry was up early as usual and having a small bowl of cereal at the kitchen table. Aunt Petunia was the only one with him as she worked around the kitchen, washing this and wiping that. She had turned on the small T.V. and tuned it to the local news like she does every morning.

"…and stargazers of all ages aren't going to want to miss this," said the pretty female reporter at her desk. "Tonight around ten p.m. to midnight, all of England will have perfect view of a total lunar eclipse. The last one until the year 1989…"

"Wow," Harry breathed. This stuff just intrigued him beyond belief. "Aunt Petunia? Do you think we could… you know… go see it?"

Aunt Petunia thought for a moment. Harry was sure she was thinking of an excuse, a surprise schedule to the dentist or something like that. Instead, Harry was surprised when she said, "I don't see why not."

Harry smiled briefly before finishing his cereal, his heart lighter than before. It was then Uncle Vernon then entered the kitchen. He gave his wife a peck on the cheek and sat with Harry at the table, the daily newspaper tucked under his arm.

"…a lunar eclipse occurs when the Earth is directly in between the sun and the moon…" a male news correspondent was sharing. "It takes place not during a full moon, but during a new moon. If conditions are clear tonight, and if we're lucky, we may be able to see a reddish tinge to the moon."

"Full moons, new moons, red moons," Uncle Vernon repeated. "What are you watching, dear? Please don't say it's some new horoscope channel or something. Maybe that's why the cable bill has been high lately."

"It's just the news, Vernon," Aunt Petunia told her husband. She carried two hot mugs of coffee over to the table. "There's some eclipse going on tonight or something like that."

"And these hoodlums from foreign places are coming into England to see it?" Uncle Vernon asked, pointing at the traveling astronomer who as now being interviewed. "I thought you can't look at an eclipse, it'll burn your retinas."

"That's with a solar eclipse," Aunt Petunia said. "Tonight's a lunar one."

"Big deal," Uncle Vernon complained. "Who would want to get up at midnight to look at the moon anyways? _Some_ of us more civilized people get their eight hours sleep to get up and work. I wonder what these hoodlum's salaries look like."

"You mean we're not going to go see it?" Harry finally spoke. He looked up at Aunt Petunia hopefully, but she wouldn't return it.

"And what made you think we were?" Uncle Vernon asked in a low voice. He leaned across the table at his nephew, only to intimidate him even more.

"Well… I-I… um," Harry was at a lost for words. He was sure his uncle would be mad at him for thinking he'd belive that his wife said they could.

Uncle Vernon sat back into his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face. "I thought so."

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And that was the reason why Harry snuck out of the house that night. He left through the back porch door and headed away from the house. He certainly didn't want to be caught standing in the middle of Aunt Petunia's flower beds.

The park was obviously the best place to go. It was a few blocks down from Privet Drive. The lacking number of lights around it made the night sky ever so clearer. What a perfect night to have a total lunar eclipse!

Harry wasn't the only one to watch the moon in awe. He was surprised at the number of families that came to find a clear spot to gaze up at the stars. One person even brought a microscope. Everyone was staring upwards, their fingers pointed at one significant looking object in the sky.

It was then Harry too turned his attention to the night's main attraction. What he saw was not only magnificent, but beautiful in its on way and sense. The moon looked red and shaded. It was so dark, it almost wasn't visible with the surrounding black space around it. The stars also seemed brighter as they illuminated the sky like thousands of tiny shards of diamonds.

Harry stood there in awe for a good five minutes. His eyes were glued onto that red moon, that beautiful red moon. He stopped staring when an older gentlemen accident bumped into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear boy," the man apologized before heading over to where a picnic blanket was laid out, his family lounging on it.

With all of these content families around him, Harry felt rather out of place. It was times like these where he harshly remembered that he had no family (he wasn't counting the Dursleys here). He had no one to share this event with. No hand to hold his had when he walked to school, nobody to go to in case of a nightmare, no one to wish him a happy birthday….

Harry did what he did best during these times at retreated back into his shell. He walked to the other side of the park where the playground was. When a heavy sigh, he sat down on one of the empty swings, his legs still to short to reach the gravel.

'I should have brought Snuffles with me,' Harry thought to himself. 'at least I have him.' He just wanted to know about the one who gave him Snuffles. That man was in his dreams quite a bit, he often dreamed of his parents as well. What really bothered him was that he'd forget their smiling faces the moment he woke up. All he could remember for the rest of the day was feeling an indescribable amount happiness. It was happiest he's ever felt in his life.

'They're out there somewhere,' Harry told himself tensely, 'for all I know, they could be outside looking at the moon too.' Harry returned his gaze to the red moon above his head. I sure did look closer to Earth than normal.

'I wonder if they are thinking of me,' Harry thought as his wide eyes held on to the image of the magnificent moon. 'Are they thinking of me like I'm thinking about them?'

And maybe they were. Harry was never to know. He just knew that there was someone far away that cared for him. One day, they will find him and bring him out of his cupboard.

"Someday," Harry said under his breath as he began to pump his legs back and forth to gain altitude. Swinging had a way to clear his head, and he sure did need it now as it felt heavy with emotion and tension.

It took some time, but soon Harry was swinging as high as he could. He tilted his head back and watched the moon as he kept swinging. It was amusing to watch the large orb zoom forwards and back as he swung. It did make him feel slightly nauseous though.

As he swung higher and higher on the swing, the moon appeared closer and bigger. So close, Harry was sure he could grasp it if he wanted to, which is what he tried to do.

With his arm outstretched in front of him, Harry reached out to try to grab the red moon. It was so close to him, he swore he could wrap his fingers around it. If only he were a little taller…almost there….

"What are you doing?"

Harry's jumped all the sudden and almost fell out of the high swing, startled. He looked around to see who had spoken.

"Over here," the voice said again. Harry skidded off the swing set and turned around. Behind him was the new boy that just moved in. Piers was his name, Harry was sure of it.

"What were you doing?" He asked again curiously. He had mousy brown and a long face.

"oh…I was just…um," Harry stuttered out. This was embarrassing. "I was just…tryingtoreachthemoon."

"The moon?" Piers asked him. He looked up at the reddish circle in the sky. "I don't know, it looks really far away."

"It isn't too far when you're on the swing."

"No, it's probably not," he said philosophically as he sat down on the empty swing. He then turned to Harry, eyeing him wearily. "I don't think we've met, my name's Piers. I'm new around here."

"I'm Harry, Dudley's cousin." Harry told him. "I'm sure you've met Dudley."

Piers only looked confused upon the name, "whose Dudley?"

"Oh, You know," Harry tried to describe his cousin. "He's gone to your house everyday this past week." But Piers still look lost. Harry mirrored his cousin's bulk by gesturing a round, pot belly and a piggish face. That's when Piers finally caught on.

"Oh, him! With the blonde hair?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, he's over at our house all the time."

"Well, that's my cousin." Piers cringed at the thought of being related to Dudley.

"Well, he's probably no better than Roger…my older brother." He informed Harry. "Do you know him?"

"No, but I've seen him," Harry said. "He was spraying you with his water gun."

Piers sighed slightly. "He never leaves me alone. He pushes me, shoves me, and talked to me like I'm a baby."

"Well, he sounds just like Dudley," Harry said, "except for the baby part. Dudley and I are the same age. He always picks on me at home. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't stop him though."

"Do you live with them?" Piers asked, turning his head towards Harry. The bespectacled boy looked down at the ground.

"Yeah, ever since my parents died," he replied gloomily. "That was a long time ago." A brief silence worked its way in between the two boys.

"You don't like them, do you?" Piers asked. "You're family, I mean. Dudley doesn't sound nice. Neither does your Aunt and Uncle."

"Not really," Harry answered honestly. "But it's not all that bad. It could be worse." That was a lie. Harry didn't know how his life could possibly be any worse.

Piers sighed. "I don't think it could get any worse with Roger." Harry had an idea.

"Maybe if we faced them, or ignored them, they'd leave us alone."

"You think so?"

"I really don't know," Harry said. "I've never tried it before." That was true. Dudley was too large and beefy for Harry to try anything.

"Then we should try it one day," Piers agreed, "just not today. Roger is still twice as big as me."

"Piers! Let's head home!" A woman called from the clearing on the opposite side of the park.

"That's my mum," Piers told Harry, "she really didn't want to come tonight. Me and dad convinced her. We had to practically drag her out by her feet."

Harry smiled at the thought, she sounded just like Aunt Petunia. "Well…bye."

"Yeah," Piers said, "see you later." He ran off to join up with his parents and brother. Harry sat motionless on the swing for a little longer, gazing up at the moon, before rising to head home.

That night he dreamed of himself once again reaching for the moon. Alone, he wasn't nearly as tall to achieve this task, but in this dream he was sitting upon a man's shoulders.

"Just keep reaching for it, Harry," the handsome dark-haired man told him. "You'll get there one day. Just don't be afraid, I'll be here to catch you if you fall..."

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The next day, Harry met up with Piers at the park again. Thankfully, the humidity was low and the blazing sun partially covered by clouds.

"So, what do you want to do?" Piers asked him. The two of them were sitting on the curb of the road next to the park, bored. "Why don't we build a sandcastle?" He pointed to the sand box not to far away.

"Nah," Harry answered flatly. He vividly remembered what Dudley did to his head in that sandbox not so long ago. The two boys sat thinking for a little longer.

"I know," Piers exclaimed, "I have some chalk at home. We can draw on my driveway."

"That sounds fun," Harry replied. He did love drawing by the way.

Piers retrieved a small bucket of chalk from inside his still open and box-filled garage. There were so many colors that Harry didn't know which one to start with.

"I like drawing animals, what about you?" Piers asked him as he found a big, unused spot on the driveway and grabbed a red stick of chalk.

"I do too," Harry told him. "I want to work at the zoo when I grow up. But I also want to fly planes."

"Why don't you fly the planes to transport the animals zoo from zoo then?"

"I've never thought of that." Harry drew a big air plane on the driveway with a blue piece of chalk. He then added in different animals in each of the windows and himself in the front. He gave himself a pilot's hat to match.

"What about you?" Harry asked Piers. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Piers put down his chalk which he was busy drawing a hopscotch diagram with. "I don't know. I've always wanted to be a movie star, but I also like-" there was a rustling in the bushes beside them.

"What is it?" Harry asked, slightly scared. Piers sat still for a moment, his ears trying to pick up on something. "It's probably just a cat. There's this lady down the street with loads of them." Harry smiled.

"That's Mrs. Figg," Harry told him. "She's really nice." The two of them continued their artwork on the sidewalk, chatting about good movies they've seen and about what types of animals they'd like to see in a zoo.

"-be awesome if they had a petting zoo. The zoo where we used to live had one. There were all these sheep and-" the rustling came back as Harry and Piers turned towards the bushes, startled.

"Do you see anything?" Piers asked, slowly getting back on his feet. This was starting to freak him out.

"I think I do," Harry said, gazing deeply through the branches. He could have sworn he saw a pair of eyes staring at him. He had had this uneasy feeling that caused the hairs of the back of his next to prick up. With a burst of courage, he too rose to his feet but approached the bushes cautiously. As he stepped closer, the bushes rustled again and out came a certain pudgy baby whale.

Harry sighed greatly, it was only Dudley. "What were you doing?" he askdd his cousin.

Dudley brushed off excess leaves and trigs from his clothes and hair. "Nothing; I wasn't doing anything," he fibbed.

"Hey," Piers exclaimed, eyeing Dudley's vast stomach , "I know you." The miniature sumo looked up, surprised. "You're the one who keeps peeking through our windows at us." Dudley blushed slightly.

"I don't know what you're-"

"No, I'm sure of it. You're the kid who tried sneaking into our pool the other day." Dudley's face was now beat red. Harry soon realized that Dudley wasn't hanging out with the Polkiss' all day, he was spying on them.

An awkward silence filled the surrounding area. Dudley couldn't think of anything to say to that, he was just caught red-handed. Harry was still trying to piece things together while Piers was the first to speak.

"You want to draw with us?" He asked. Dudley looks at him weirdly.

"Well, would you look at this?" Came a voice. All three of the kids' heads turned around. Roger, Piers' older brother, was standing before them with a garden hose in hand.

"Mum sent me out to water the flowers, but look at what I found!" he took a deep breath through his nose as his sniffing out a certain scent. "Fresh meat!"

Roger pointed the hose equipped with its nozzle at the three of them. Dudley squealed like a pig and made an effort to waddle away, his hands covering his large behind.

"Uh oh, Tubby's getting away!" He aimed for Dudley and sprayed him harshly with the hose. Dudley was still squealing even after he got out of the line of fire. Harry's never seen his cousin run that fast.

"One down, two to go," he smirked evilly. He then pointed the nozzle at Harry. "I'd run if I were you, kid." Roger pulled the trigger of the nozzle as a cold wave of water sprayed over Harry. It only hit him for a brief moment as he was able to dodge behind the car.

"Run for it, Harry!" Piers called to him. "Go no-" his voice was muffled over the spray of water. Roger had got him right in the mouth.

Still hunched away behind the car, Harry felt something cold trickle by his bare feet, causing him to shiver. He looked down, only to see a river of different hues of chalk trinkle down the driveway and into the gutter. Their pictures must have gotten wet due to the hose. They were now ruined.

A surge of anger and courage filled Harry as he walked back towards the bully from behind the car. Piers was trying to cough out the water that went down the wrong pipe.

"You still here?" Roger asked in mock surprise. "What? Did the little baby not get enough?" He aimed for Harry again, spraying him as hard as he could.

Harry stood his ground. The harsh blast of freezing water felt horrible but he didn't dare run away this time. He was tired of someone antagonizing he and his friends.

"Stop it!" Piers yelled at his older brother. "That really hurt! You're hurting him!" But Roger didn't seem to listen. He was laughing at the two smaller boy's pain.

"Look at you two babies," he howled with laughter. "You afraid of getting wet? What, will you melt or something?"

As huge blast of water cuased Harry to stumble and fall backwards on the hard, wet ground. This only made Roger laugh harder. Harry didn't want to be laughed at anymore, he was tired of being laughed at all the time. Roger, Dudley, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Miss McKenna, practically all of his classmates…. If they only knew how much it hurt to be made fun of and mocked. No, he was tired of being embarrassed. Now, all he wanted was Roger to feel was he was feeling….

…Which is what just happened. Suddenly, Roger's shrieks of laughter turned into cries of surprise. He fidgeted around in place as if a hamster was crawling around his clothes. He looked like a victim of a voodoo doll as he bent over and turned this way and that. Harry didn't know whether it was just his wet, blurred glasses or was Roger's clothes actually changing shape.

Harry took off his glasses and wiped them on the only dry patch of clothes that remained. When he placed them back on his nose, he let out a gasp of surprise.

Roger wasn't wearing his shirt, shorts, and trainers anymore. No, now he had on only a coconut bra and a hula skirt. A luau bead necklace and bangles were scattered on his thick arms. Roger too let out a large gasp of surprise as he gazed down at his body. Piers was roaring with laughter.

"I-Uh…what…I…" was all that stuttered out of Roger's mouth. He looked around the block to see if innocent bystander was out for a walk and able to see him. After stuttering for a good minute, he dropped the hose and quickly ran back into the house.

"How did you do that?" was the first thing Piers asked Harry as he calmed down. The whole front of his shirt was wet along with his hair. He looked incruelelly at Harry s if he's never seen him before.

"I-I don't know," Harry admitted truthfully, "I just did."

"But how?" Piers pressed on. Harry cringed slightly,

"I was just mad at him, and then I wanted him to know what it's like to be laughed at. Then it just happened."

"Then it looks like your advice really works then," Piers laughed nervously as he looked upn the ground his brother was standing on only moments before. "Woah, I can't believe it. It was just like magic. It was brilliant It-it was" he stuggled for words.

"It was what?" Harry asked fearfully. What if Piers thought this talent of his was freakish and abnormal? Whould he still want to be his friend?

But then a wide, friendly smile lit up Pier's face, easing away any of Harry's fears. "It was wicked…."

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Author's Note:_From now on, I'm posting new chapters on Friday.. _

I think this chapter came out better than I expected. I still don't have that much time to write. Please point out any problems or questions you have and keep reviewing.

Yes, Piers is going to be Harry's friend for a while in this story. But as you all know, he and Dudley are best buddies. This will unfold eventually but for now, Harry and Piers are friends.

I know that Harry has been treated horribly in the past couple of chapters. Someone actually said that I should forget the canon and just have Sirius come save Harry from the Dursleys so that he doesn't have to suffer anymore. There were times where I considered this, but I'm sticking to the canon for many reasons.

I don't know if there are other variations of "Harry's childhood" stories on this site. I'm trying to keep mine canon while adding a couple of twist now and then. I don't think anyone was expecting Piers to befriend Harry in this story. : )

If you noticed, there were some certain parts of the canon that are reflected in this chapter. For example, how Harry was trying to catch the moon is symbolic to the snitch in the way. Roger is also like a bogart in way. He is frightening to Piers and Harry was able to alter him into a way that was humorous to drive him back.

If you were wondering, the dark-haired handsome man in Harry's dreams is Sirius. He's my favorite character and, in my opinion, the best father-figure for Harry in the series. I'm sure he was looking at the eclipse through the bar windows of his cell thinking about Harry.

I hope you didn't think the idea of Harry trying to catch the moon is too corny. He's five years old.

The idea of a total lunar eclipse came to me a few days ago. I don't know about you, but I live in the Midwest and I went outside to see an actual lunar eclipse. I previously had a bit of writers block as I couldn't find a reasonable way to bring Harry and Piers together.

I've started writing an epilogue for this story. It should be up sometime soon when this story is over (I'm hoping on finishing it by summer).

Also, my Valentine's Day story will be posted sometime within the next week. I know that Valentine's Day had come and gone but does it look like I care?

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Next Chapter: Why don't you come by next week and see what it's about yourself. ( :

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	11. Please Read

Author's Note: It's been way too long since I've updated. I apologize for it but I decided to start a newer story. It is very much tied to this one. It's of Harry telling his childhood stories to Sirius. I wanted to end Harry's Butterfly with Harry finding his beloved stuffed dog Snuffles years later and showing it to Sirius.

This newer story shouldn't be too long. I like it better since it has Sirius in it more and the two overcome both of their not so wonderful childhoods by confiding in one another. I really wish Harry had the chance to talk to Sirius before he died in Ootp. Now he can!

I'll post this new story in a few weeks. If I'm up to it, I might finish this one. It all depends. This one drags a bit and has a lot of time to cover. I have all of the events for Harry's childhood planned, but I couldn't get through some of his more boring years.

I'm sorry for not updating for so long. The last thing I want to do though is abandon a story.


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